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^^Penii's^ 
Grandest Cavern 




The History, Legends and Description 

of Penn's Gave 

in Centre Gonnty, Pennsylvania 

Compiled by HENRY W. SHOEMAKER 

(Member of the Historical Societies of Berks and Snyder Counties) 






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Penn's Grandest Cavern 

The History, Legends and Description of 

Penn's Cave in Centre County 

Pennsylvania 




There is a cave 
All overgrown with trailing, odorous plants, 
Which curtain out the day xvith leaves and flowers, 
And paved vnth veined emerald, and a fountain 
Leaps in the midst with an aivakening sound; 
From its curved roof, the mountain' s frozen tears, 
Like snow or silver, or long, diamond spires. 
Hang doumward, raining forth a doiihtful light; 
And there is heard the ever-moving air, 
Whispering without from tree to tree, and birds 
And bees; and all around are mossy seats. 
And the rough ivalls are clothed with long, soft gra.'is. 

— Prometheus Unbound 



(REVISED EDITION— ILLUSTRATED) 



Published by the 

ALTOONA TRIBUNE PRESS. Altoona, Pa. 

= 19 16 == 

COPYRIGHTED All Rights Reserved 






NOV 



INDEX OF CHAPTERS. 



Pages 

I. Introduction 7 — 9 

II. Description 11 — 18 

III. History 19—27 

IV. The Legend of Penn's Cave 38—32 

V. Cave Panthers 33—40 

VI. The Lost Lovers 41—58 

VII. Gov. Curtin's Visit 59—63 

VIII. The Fountain of Youth 64—74 

IX. Riding His Pony 75—79 

X. Nita-nee 80—94 



I INTRODUCTION. 



PENN'S CAVE needs more panegyrics and panegy- 
rists. Beautiful natural curiosity that it is, it 
is hidden away among rolling hills and tower- 
ing mountains, almost like "a flower to blush unseen." 
The writer of these Hues, having visited many of the 
principal caves in the United States and in foreign 
countries, and comparing them with Penn's Cave, has 
come to the conclusion that something adequate should 
be written concerning the great Central Pennsylvania 
cavern. Though not having the spare time to go into 
the subject in detail, he has compiled the following 
chapters in the hopes of filling the want until the 
proper historian can take up the subect, using the 
contents of this book as a foundation for more sona 
research and exposition. But this is sometimes a 
difficult task, as history loves to follow beaten paths. 
After much painstaking research and a world of care, 
the writer prepared the first complete history of the 
Pine Creek, or Fort Horn Declaration of Independ- 
ence. It was a subject glossed over by most Penn- 
sylvania historians, even by the immortal Meginness. 
A week or so ago in the "Romances of Pennsylvania 
History" series in a leading Philadelphia newspaper 
the old story was republished, just as it was given, 
fragmentary and imperfect in every old history. 
Either the compiler of the article disregarded a newer 
and more complete version, or did not see it, or else 



history is too dogmatic to leave its channels. In the 
case of Penn's Cave, its amplified story appears in 
these pages for the first time ; it cuts out the channel, 
as it were. Consequently the writer feels an added 
responsibility, for here is a lack of the minuteness so 
characteristic of some other specimens of cave lit- 
erature, notably Hovey's works. But in lieu of other 
treatises, these pages are presented to the public 
in the hope that they may answer a few of the ques- 
tions being asked about the Cave, and to preset ve the 
folk-lore clustered about it. To the writer these 
pages have a deep import, as Penn's Cave determined 
his course to collect and preserve, if possible, the 
dying legends and folk-tales of the Pennsylvania 
Mountains. Twenty-two years ago this month, as a 
little red-headed boy, he made the acquaintance of 
an aged Seneca Indian, Isaac Steele, who was visit- 
ing familiar scenes in the West Branch and Bald 
Eagle Valleys. The venerable man sat on the trunk 
of a felled Indian apple tree at the corner of the 
old Quiggle orchard , at McElhaitan, (Clinton 
County), and recounted the "legend of Penn's Cave." 
For eleven years it tossed about in the writer's mind, 
until a time came when he could contain it no longer, 
?o he wrote it down. It was first published in the 
"Centre Reporter," at Centre Hall, (Clinton County), 
and became the nucleus of other legends, which came 
out in book form in 1903, under the title of "Wild 
Life in Central Pennsylvania." Later editions of this 
book were published under the name of "Pennsyl- 
vania Mountain Stories," the last in 1911. And from 

8 



that time on, when the writer had a little leisure, a 
little chance to travel, he has been collecting and 
"writing down" more Pennsylvania legends. There- 
fore, it is with more than the usual heartbeats that 
he is giving forth his latest brochure on "Penn's 
Grandest Cavern." The writer wishes to extend his 
hearty thanks to Mr. R. P. Campbell, one of the 
proprietors of the Cave, for valuable assistance 
rendered in the preparation of this book, and to Mr. 
S. W. Smith, editor of the "Centre Reporter," for 
furnishing some of the most interesting illustrations. 

Henry W. Shoemaker. 

Altoona Tribune Office, Sept. 28, 1914. 



II. DESCRIPTION. 



THOUGH perhaps lacking in the exquisite stalac- 
tite formations of the Crystal Cave at Vlrgins- 
ville, or the huge "dragon" stalagmite at 
Dreibelbis Cave, or the "Red Panther's Funeral Pyre" 
stalagmite in the Caves of Coburn, or the symmetry 
of the bush-hammered walls of the Naginey Cave, 
Penn's Cave excels all other Pennsylvania caverns by 
the vastness of its dimensions, its water trip, its 
diversity of formations. While other caves in the 
Commonwealth rely on one feature of commanding 
interest, Penn's Cave has first-class attractions by the 
score. It contains so much that is of interest that it 
always gives fresh and absorbing pleasure, even to 
persons who have visited it dozens of times — like the 
writer of this article. First of all, let it be said that 
the entrance is the most imposing of any cave in the 
United States — maybe in the world. The flight of 
steps leading down to the vast limestone arch with the 
depth of green water beneath it is something never to 
be forgotten. The boat ride, a quarter of a mile or 
more, each way, is finer by far than the Echo River, 
the Styx or Lethe in Mammoth Cave in Kentucky, 
or the Lake in Cahow Cave, or the boat ride in Smug- 
glers' Cave in Bermuda, where Annette Kellerman 
posed for the great moving picture play, "Neptune's 
Daughter." The mysterious abruptness with which 
Penn's Cave ends adds greatly to its charm. The 

11 



12 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

writer has crawled far into the labyrinths beyond the 
ending of the "watery" part, been confused by the 
midtiplicity of passages, been lulled by the musical 
echoes of countless subterranean waterfalls. The 
Cave has three, possibly four or five, entrances. The 
main entrance, already referred to, is like the door- 
way to the Labyrinth of the Minotaur in Auguste 
Gendron's famous painting, the entrance from the old 
orchard into the dry cave, and another which can be 
noticed by the ray of light which filters into one of 
the hidden chambers at the rear of "watery cave" 
are curiously picturesque. Other cork-screw or 
spiral apertures are observable in the ceilings at cer- 
tain parts of the cavern, but as they admit no light, 
they cannot be definitely called "entrances." In some 
places the water attains a depth of- forty feet, and is 
of a peculiar transparent greenish color. Trout and 
other fish find their way into the Cave, but do nnt 
multiply, as there is no food of importance inside, 
yet the earlier explorers reported that it was fairly 
alive with trout. Daniel Ott, of Selinsgrove, who died 
recently, aged 96 years, has stated that at one time 
shad were taken in Penn's Cave. In the coldest part 
of winter screech owls take refuge in the cavern. Small 
cray-fish, numerous insects, including white katydids, 
rats, mice and bats, still inhabit it in considerable num- 
bers. Unfortunately, the bats do not hibernate in as 
great quantity as formerly. The noises, the acetylene 
lights, the inquisitive tourists, have driven these shy 
creatures to unknown hiding places, though their 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 13 

desertion is not as complete as at the charming 
Crystal Cave, in Berks County, where the proprietor 
injudiciously installed a system of electric lighting. 
At dusk in summer, beginning in May, numbers of 
bats can be seen flitting about near the mouth of the 
Cave and on the green before the hotel, chasing insects. 
Thanks to their tireless efforts, there is an almost en- 
tire absence of mosquitoes in the vicinity of Penn's 
Cave. No wonder Texas has put a perpetual closed sea- 
son on our little satan-winged friends. It is said that, 
their work done, the bats return to the Cave through 
the small opening in the orchard, preferring it to the 
larger, or main entrance. According to the stories told 
by the first explorers the "Dry'' Cave was formerly 
much dryer than at present. In the old days, panthers, 
red bears, lynxes, foxes, as well as smaller mammals, 
made it a headquarters ; the larger beasts fought for its 
possession. Indians sometimes camped in the Dry 
Cave in very cold winters. They would find it un- 
comfortably wet now. The quality of the limestone 
composing the walls of the Cave is very unusual. It 
shades from whites to delicate greys, into rich pinks 
and reds. It is the most gorgeously colored cavern in 
the Eastern States. Italians might almost call it "the 
American Capri." In some parts the delicacy of the 
grey-green tones reminds one of the famous French 
"art nouveau" introduced about the time of the Paris 
Exposition in 1900. In other places the reds are rem- 
iniscent of the richness of the best in Indian art. This 
is best seen in the curious, natural mural painting 



14 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

called "Indian Riding Pony," which is shown to vis- 
itors on the "return trip" in the Cave. It is a "sumac" 
red which holds the attention just as the primitive art- 
ists evidently sought, knowing that the impression must 
be given by only one color. t The stalactites are not as 
numerous as in many caves, notably Luray, the Endless 
Caverns near Newmarket, Va., or the Wyandot Cave 
on the Rothrock estate in Southern Indiana. Count- 
less numbers were broken off during the dark days 
when there was no absolute rule in the Cave, when 
visitors did pretty much as they pleased. The early 
explorers spoke enthusiastically of the stalactites, so 
we must blame the generation of vandals if our Cave is 
exceeded in this respect by other American caverns. 
Some of the curious stalactite forms, like "The Lan- 
caster County Tobacco Barn" and "The Lobster's 
Claw" are not to be excelled anywhere. But there are 
few transparent pendants, loveliest of all stalactites. 
The stalagmite forms are finer and more numerous 
than the stalactites, at least in their present-day condi- 
tion. They represent a wide diversity of forms, some 
of them like the "Giant Pillars" being of impressive 
proportions, while others like the "Prairie Dogs" are 
quaint and amusing in the extreme. As a "freak" for- 
mation the "Ruffles, Scalloped" is well worth a visit. 
There are several places where the formations emit 
musical sounds upon being struck. One great charm of 
Penn's Cave is that the visitor never leaves disappoint- 
ed, as is the case with many caves. The imagination, it 

t See Chapter IX. 







THE GARDEN OF THE GODS. 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 15 

would seem, cannot picture anything quite like it. Many 
persons imagine Niagara Falls to be a grander sight 
than it seems to them on first glimpse, but on subse- 
quent visits it appears to grow to the proportions of the 
preconceived mental image. Penn's Cave comes upon 
the eye very different from any prior conception ; any 
subsequent visits make it seem lovelier, more weird, 
grander. Its situation in a picturesque region adds 
greatly to its attractiveness. Sixteen years ago, whea 
the writer first visited the Cave, there was much origi- 
nal timber, white pine, white oak, hemlock, standing in 
the ravines adjacent to the property. Now, alas, much 
of this is gone, but there is still a quaint old-world, 
out-of-time atmosphere connected with the region. At 
night to lie on the hillside by the creek that runs from 
the cavern, as the writer has done, and watch the Brush 
Mountain above so immovable and vast, frowning like 
a tall sentinel upon the Cave property, while down in 
some sink a whippoorwill is improvising, or a fox bark- 
ing on a distant "bench," is a rare treat to an impres- 
sionable soul which seeks the infinite. The Cave is best 
visited at dusk or after night-fall, if the full effect of 
the eerie surroundings is desired. The formations 
appear huger, the distances greater, the shadows more 
impenetrable, after darkness outside. Then to emerge 
again into the seemingly excessively warm air, into 
darkness, and hear a distant kildeer's mournful note or 
to see a bat flit mechanically over one's head, are experi- 
ences in keeping with one's bewitched mental attitude. 
The glory of the autumn coloring in the Cave woods, 



16 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

or on the adjoining farm, is very wonderful. Fall is 
the best time of the year to visit the great natural won- 
der. There are many hardwoods still standing, the 
hickories in particular are radiantly yellow in Septem- 
ber and October. Bluejays, newly arrived from the 
north, cry out buoyantly. In May-time the orchard 
and fields about the Cave are a mass of white and pink 
sweet-scented blooms. Bird songs in the rising inflexion 
are everywhere. The very earth smells sweet ; world 
hopes come into our breasts. But there is a tang in the 
air in Autumn ; it comes from the drying leaves, the 
cracking nut burrs, the hardening earth, that gives us a 
stronger grip on life. Nature is our friend in Play- 
time, we understand her mood, she seems helping us. 
In the Autumn she appears to be drawing away, be- 
coming more distant, forgetful of us. We reverence 
her as more all-powerful ; we feel more self-reliant. 
Our imaginations for these reasons are soothed in 
Spring, keenly awakened in the Fall. Apart from 
Nature's grandeur, the wonders of the Cave forma- 
tions hold us more "in chill October." How great a joy 
if one could visit the Cave on Hallowe'en ! Care should 
be taken to have every wonderful formation pointed 
out. They are well-named, not one can we afford to 
miss. It is only after seeing them that a correct esti- 
mate can be formed of Penn's Cave, its position in 
relation to other caverns. We believe that the discern- 
ing observer is bound to give it a very high place. 
Although the lamented Rev. Horace C. Hovey omitted 
mentioning it in his classic work, "Celebrated American 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 17 



Caverns." published in 1883. it is not too late to record 
Penn's Cave in the "underground hall of fame." Grad- 
ually its popularity is growing, its distinctive marvels 
are showing out more boldly. Like a genius half under- 
stood, modest and retiring, it is coming to its own. The 
Height of the roof in the highest part is 55 feet ; the 
water at its greatest depth 35 feet, at time of high 
water. The temperature of the Cave, all the year 
'round, is 50 degrees, and the Cave property is situated 
at an altitude of 1,200 feet above sea level. The Cave 
received its name because John Penn's Creek, formerly 
named the Karoondinha, rises in it. Penn's Creek was 
named after John Penn (1729-1795), grandson of the 
founder of Pennsylvania, Captain James Potter having 
given It this appellation in January, 17'64. A legend of 
one of John Penn's visits to Central Pennsylvania will 
be found m the compiler's ^'More Pennsylvania Moun- 
tam Stones," Reading, 1912, in the chapter entitled 
"Marsh Marigold." For the benefit of intending visi- 
tors, below is appended a list of the leading named 
formations, 36 in all, but there are hundreds of others 
which await their "great American identifiers," that 
are full of strangeness, full of charm, tonics for the 
nnagmation. 



JC 



18 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 



SEEN AS YOU ENTER CAVE. 

1 The Eagle's Wings. 

2 The Lobster's Claw. 

3 Statue of Liberty. 

4 A Bunch of Bananas. 

5 Garden of Gods. 

6 The Lace Curtain. 

7 The Strait of Gibraltar. 

8 Petrified Lion. 

9 Coral Growths. 

10 The Chimes. 

11 Drop Curtain. 

12 Prairie Dogs. 

13 Snow Slides. 

14 Pittsburg Snow Drift. 

15 Niagara Falls (Canadian 

and American Sides). 

16 Trout Colored Stalactite. 

17 Turtle Shell. 

18 Lancaster County Tobacco 

Barn. 

19 Hindoo Idols. 

20 Giant Pillars. 



,EEN AS YOU RETURN. 

1 Water Falls with Light- 

house Above. 

2 The Ruffles, Scalloped. 

3 North Pole Scene. 

4 Indian Riding Pony. 

5 Leopard Skins. 

6 The Billiken. 

8 Lebanon Bologna. 

9 Boy Driving Cow Across 

Suspension Bridge. 

10 Indian Woman Carying 

Papoose. 

11 Egyptian Woman Carrying 

Jug of Water. 

12 Dove Wing. 

13 Angel Wings. 

14 Silver Rock. 

15 Shadow Statue of Libertty. 

16 Elephrnt's Head. 



III. HISTORY. 

(From the Altoona Tribune.) 



IT is not generally known that the namesakes, or 
perhaps distant relatives of America's greatest 
poet, Edgar Allan Poe, were the first white men 
to own Penn's Cave, in Centre County. These hardy 
frontiersmen, who fought the Indians in the moun- 
tains of Maryland and Pennsylvania, took up many 
tracts of land in the Pennsylvania mountains and be- 
came citizens of prominence. The original name was 
spelled Poh, but became altered like so many other of 
the old-time names, into its present form. The Penn's 
Cave farm, or tract of land, as it was known in the 
early days, was surveyed in pursuance of two warrants 
granted to James Poh or Poe and dated January 5 and 
November 3, 1773. A patent for these lands was issued 
by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania to James Poe, 
dated April 9, 1789. James Poe only lived on the 
Penn's Cave farm a short time, spending most of his 
days at his homestead in the valley bearing his name 
in the southern part of Centre County. But he built a 
substantial log house near the large spring where the 
Karoondinha emerges from the cave, which was the 
first improvement in that part of the valley. James 
Poe at his death left the Cave farm to his daughter, 
Susanna M. Poe, and his will is duly recorded in the 
records of Franklin County, Pennsylvania, Centre 
County not yet having come into existence. The young 

19 



20 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

heiress became the wife of Samuel Vantries, and the 
Penn's Cave farm took the name of the "Vantries 
Place," by which name it was known for many years. 
Samuel Vantries Hved formerly near what is now 
Linden Hall, as the family name is still well known 
in that locality. Dr. James Vantries, of Bellefonte, is a 
direct descendant of Samuel Vantries and James Poe. 
There is no record that Edgar Allan Poe, during his 
famous visit to Central Pennsylvania in 1838, ever paid 
a visit to his namesakes at Penn's Cave. Prior to the 
time of this trip he was residig in Philadelphia, and was 
on the staff of the "Gentlemen's Magazine." Pie was in 
need of money, being heavily in debt, and thought that 
doubtless his wealthy namesakes in the mountains 
would help him. He visited Poe Valley, and later 
crossed the Seven Mountains to Milroy and Lewistown, 
from which latter town he returned to Philadelphia. 
He was mucli. impressed with the large cave on the 
Naginey farm near Milroy, and at the Mammoth 
Spring on the Alexander farm, not far from Reedsville. 
Samuel Vantries rented the Penn's Cave farm about 
1855, as Jacob Harshbarger was living there at that 
time. Mr. Harshbarger used to say that the first per- 
son to enter the cave was Rev. James Martin, a Presby- 
terian preacher, who died June 30, 1795, and is buried 
on the Musser farm, near Penn Hall. Rev. Martin 
was a native of Ireland, an honor graduate of Trinity 
College, Dublin, and pastor of the earliest Presbyterian 
congregation in Penn's Valley. The old gentleman, it 
is said, caught a cold in the cave, from which he never 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 21 

fully recovered. Previous to Rev. Martin's adventure, 
Indians of various tribes had frequented it, as numer- 
ous sovenirs, like arrow-heads, pottery and beads, have 
been taken out of it. Malachi Boyer, a young pioneer 
from Lanaster County, was drowned in the cave about 
1749. He had run away with Nita-nee, the daughter of 
a powerful chief, Okocho, was captured and paid the 
death penalty.* Beginning with 1845, and continuing 
to 1860, people frequently went down into the dry cave 
through the small entrance in the old orchard. No 
guides accompanied the visitors, however, and on an 
occasion a pair of saddle horses were found tied to the 
orchard fence at dusk one evening, which bore the 
marks of having been tied there for some time. A 
search was made in the dry cave and a young man and 
his sweetheart wert found close by the water. Their 
lights had failed them and they were afraid to move, 
and they had lost all idea as to which way to turn to 
get out. So they decided to wait and trust to the pres- 
ence of the horses to bring relief .t About 1860 a young 
Quaker named Isaac Paxton, who had resided in Ches- 
ter County, became teacher at the public school in 
Spring Mills. He was a nature lover and fond of 
taking long tramps through the hills and valleys to 
study the birds and flowers, trees and geological forma- 
tions. Accompanied by his chum, Albert Woods, a 
successful agriculturist residing at Spring Mills, he 
walked to Penn's Cave and entered the dry cave. The 



* See Chapter IV. 
t See Chapter VI. 



22 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

young men became convinced that they saw a Hght out 
in the direction of the water-course entrance. Previous 
to this time there was no knowledge of the water in the 
"dry" cave being the same stream that rises at the main 
entrance of the cave, nor that the two parts of the cave 
led into one another. Paxton and Woods came out of 
the dry cave, went down to the saw mill, which stood 
close to where the water emerges from the cavern, 
and from which water power it was run, and secured 
enough lumber to build a raft. They carried this lum- 
ber to the main, or present, entrance of the cave, nailed 
it together, and, with the aid of a pine torch and a 
long pole, traversed the water-course in Penn's Cave 
for the first time. They found that the water-way led 
into the dry cave, unearthed the skeletons of two huge 
panthers, and made other interesting discoveries.* 
Presbyterian preachers must have had a fondness for 
visiting caves, as a few days after Rev. J. E. Long, the 
Presbyterian pastor of the Valley, whose place of resi- 
dence was at Hublersburg, in Nittany Valley, came 
over and,' hearing of the adventure of Messrs. Paxton 
and Woods, persuaded them to repeat the trip, so that 
he might accompany them. So the three gentlemen 
returned to the cave, reconstructed the raft into a 
small boat and traversed the gloomy water-way. The 
news spread rapidly, and as the Fourth of July was 
approaching, a small picnic of members of "old-line" 
families was gotten up to spend the holiday at the cave 
and make use of the boat. Among those in the party 

t See Chapter V. 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 23 

were two aged ladies, Mrs. Margaret Foster and Miss 
Sarah Vanvalzah. Because of their venerable age 
the compliment was paid them of having the boat 
named for them, the "Sarah-Margaret." Among those 
in the merry party were Miss Mary Wilson, Miss 
Lizzie Cook, Miss Mary Dmican, Miss Mary Woods, 
Miss Ada Vanvalzah, Mrs. Robert Duncan, John 
Foster, John Wilson, Frank Vanvalzah, Harry Van- 
valzah, Dr. John Woods, Robert Duncan and Miss 
Mary Buchanan . J\liss Ada X'anvalzah later became 
the wife of Col. John A. Churchill, of St. Louis, a dis- 
tinguished officer in the United States Army. Dr. 
John Woods practiced the profession of medicine at 
Boalsburg, Centre County, for many years. Miss 
Alary Woods, who is now living at Spring Mills, fur- 
nished the list of names of the happy party, most of 
whom are now enjoying their reward. Miss Ada 
Vanvalzah and Miss Mary Woods were the first ladies 
to enter the boat and go through the cave. All during 
the day one load would be rowed back as far as the 
dry cave in the rear of the cavern and left to explore 
the dry rooms while the boat returned for another 
load. For years following this picnic the country be- 
came so excited over the Civil War that little interest 
was taken in the cave until about 1870, when another 
picnic party visited the picturesque spot. This time 
the boat was hauled on a wagon from Beaver Dams, 
below Spring Mills, which in those days was a favorite 
spot for canoeists and boatmen generally. No signs 
were found of the old boat, the '"Sarah-Margaret." 



24 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

Previous to the last picnic, in 1868, Samuel Vantries 
sold the farm to George Long, who lived in the old 
farmhouse and used the water from the "spring," 
which in reality is the overflow from the cave. Mr. 
Long was a man of serious nature and objected 
strongly to pleasure-seekers entering the cave. Fur- 
thermore, he did not want people to contaminate what 
he now realized was his water supply. During his 
regime few people visited the cave. Upon his death, 
in 1884, the property passed into the hands of his two 
sons, Jesse and Samuel. These two young men had 
traveled extensively and realized the financial possi- 
bilities of the cave. It v.-as worth much more than the 
farm, in their estimation. In their rambles they had 
visited the Mammoth Cave of Kentucky, wnicli they 
declared was in no way superior to their own cavern. 
They built a larger boat and began charging admission 
to the cave. About 1885 they constructed the hand- 
some building now known as the Penn's Cave Plotel. 
For a time they prospered, and hundreds of people 
visited their unique resort annually. In December, 
1905, the farm was sold to John A. Herman, of Pleas- 
ant Gap, Centre County. In January, 1908, the farm 
and cave again changed hands and became the property 
of its present owners, Dr. H. C. and R. P. Campbell. 
Previous to this, for several years, owing to financial 
embarrassments, the Long brothers had abandoned the 
hotel and the place was deserted. The Campbell 
brothers, who are graduates of the Pennsylvania State 
College, and young men of education and foresight, 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 25 

improved the property extensively, making it one of 
the most unique resorts in Central Pennsylvania. To 
use the word's of Mr. R. P. Campbell, who is the active 
manager of the hotel and cave, "Now has come the 
age of the automobile, and the cave again has become 
a place of interest to the tourists. The number of 
visitors has increased steadily each year since we 
bought the place, and we expect 1914 to be the banner 
year."t Penn's Cave is easy of access to residents of 
Altoona, especially those owning automobiles. Twenty 
years ago the Naginey Cave in Milroy was visited by 
Altoonans every Sunday during the summer months. 
On several occasions the Altoona Band waked the 
echoes of its dismal recesses. Now, since the automo- 
bile has come into use, Penn's Cave in Centre County 
can be reached as easily as was the Naginey Cave in 
the old days. The best way to reach Penn's Cave by 
automobile from Altoona is to follow the main road 
to Tyrone, thence to Wariror's Mark, Pennsylvania 
Furnace, Rock Springs and State College. From 
State College it is only a short distance to the cave 
over first-class roads. Those wishing to go by train 
can reach Spring Mills or Rising Springs Station, as it 
is called, on the Lewisburg and Tyrone Railroad, after 
changing cars at Bellefonte. Conveyances cannot al- 
ways be obtained there, so that it would probably be 
better to go by train to State College from Bellefonte. 



t This prophecy proved correct, as twice as many persons 
visited the cave as ever before. But all records were broken 
in July, 1916, when a veritable army of persons visited the 
cave. 



26 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

There are several excellent liveries there, also automo- 
biles which can be hired. The Campbell brothers, ac- 
cording to experienced travelers, know how to keep 
a hotel. They provide clean beds, baths and 
running water and other conveniences for their guests. 
Meals are furnished when ordered in advance. Their 
charges are moderate, especially when one con- 
siders the nature of the accommodations furnished. 
But what appeals mostly to tourists and automobile 
parties is the air of courtesy and politeness which per- 
vades the place. Every one, from Mr. Campbell down, 
seems anxious to please, and the tired traveler will 
find nothing to ruffle his overstrained nerves. The 
scenery about the cave is magnificent ; in fact, there is 
none finer in Central Pennsylvania. The Brush 
Mountain comes to an abrupt end east of the cave, 
while to the south looms the high peaks of the Seven 
Mountains' chain. Penn's Cave makes an ideal trip 
for Altoonans and gives them a chance to fully appre- 
ciate the matchless beauties of their native state. Filled 
with- historic lore, it creates an impression never to oe 
forgotten. Ex-Governor Curtin called it "Pennsylva- 
nia's greatest natural wonder."* Many distinguished 
persons have been entertained there, including parties 
of foreigners. All these traveled persons who ought 
to know have been loud in their praises of this grand 
spot. When the writer was last there, in the month 
of May, 1914, the new moon was shining brightly high 
above the Seven Mountains. It cast a ghostly light 

• See Chapter VII. 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 27 

over the old orchard which surrounds the commodious 
hotel. Down in the deep gorge, where the green lime- 
stone water rushes from the cave, the whippoorwills 
had begun their plaintive melodies. Never did nature 
seem more beautiful than on this occasion. The entire 
demesne seemed to radiate the spirit of long ago. A 
mist was rising from the entrance to the cave, and as 
night progressed it seemed to form into the figures of 
the murdered Malachi Boyer and his sweetheart, 
Nita-nee, surrounded by the hostile forms of the old 
chief and his seven sons, who would not permit a 
marriage between an Indian princess and a white ad- 
venturer. Then these forms seemed to fade away, 
and in their places came those of Rev. Martin, Rev. 
Long, Paxton and Woods, the early explorers of the 
cave. It was a night full of fancies anJt imaginings, 
where one lives over his life in retrospect. It was a 
place where one can find relief and rest from the 
cares of the modern, complex life. If the fountain of 
youth is in Pennsylvania, surely it must have flowed 
out of the unsounded depths of Penn's Cave,t for all 
who have been there have come away strengthened 
and spiritually purified by its rare beauty and precious 
flood of memories. 

t See Chapter VII. 



IV. THE LEGEND OF PENN'S CAVE. 



(Related by Isaac Steele, an Aged Seneca Indian, 
in 1892.) 

IN THE DAYS when the West Branch Valley was 
a trackless wilderness of defiant pines and sub- 
missive hemlocks twenty-five years before the 
first pioneer had attempted lodgment beyond Sunbury, 
a young Pennsylvania Frenchman, from Lancaster 
County, named Malachi Boyer, alone and unaided, 
pierced the jungle to a point where Belief onte is now 
located. The history of his travels has never been 
written, partly because he had no white companion to 
observe them, and partly because he himself was u •■- 
able to write. His very identity would now be forgot- 
ten were it not for the traditions of the Indians, with 
whose lives he became strangely entangled. 

A short, stockily built fellow was Malachi Boyer, 
with unusually prominent black eyes and black hair 
that hung in ribbon-like strands over his broad, low 
forehead. Fearless, yet conciliatory, he escaped' a 
thousand times from Indian cunning and treachery, 
and as the months went by and he penetrated further 
into the forests he numbered many redskins among 
his cherished friends. 

Why he explored these boundless wilds he could 
not explain, for it was not in the interest of science, 
as he scarcely knew of such a thing as geography, and 

28 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 29 

it was not for trading, as he lived by the way. But on 
he forced his path, ever aloof from his own race, on 
the alert for the strange scenes that encompassed him 
day by day. 

One beautiful month of April — there is no one who 
can tell the exact year — found Malachi Boyer camped 
on the shores of Spring Creek. Near the Mammoth 
Spring was an Indian camp, whose occupants main- 
tained a quasi-intercourse with the pale-faced stranger. 
Sometimes old Chief O-ko cho would' bring gifts ot 
corn to Malachi, who in turn presented the chieftain 
with a hunting knife of truest steel. And in this wny 
Malachi came to spend more and more of his time 
about the Indian camps, only keeping his distance at 
night and during religious ceremonies. 

Old' O-ko-cho's chief pride was centered in his seven 
stalwart sons, Hum-kin, Ho-ko-lin, Too-chin, Os-tin, 
Chaw-kee-bin, A-ha-kin, Ko-lo-pa-kin and his Diana- 
like daughter, Nita-nee. The seven brothers resolved 
themselves into a guard of honor for their sister, who 
had many suitors, among whom was the young chief 
E-Faw, from the adjoining sub-tribe of the A-caw- 
ko-tahs. But Nita-nee gently, though firmly, repulsed 
her numerous suitors, until such time as her father 
would' give her in marriage to one worthy of her regal 
blood. 

Thus ran the course of Indian life when Malachi 
Boyer made his bed of hemlock boughs by the gurg- 
ling waters of Spring Creek. And it was the first sig'^.t 
of her, washing a deer-skin in the stream, that led him 



30 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

to prolong his stay and ingratiate himself with her 
father's tribe. 

Few were the words that passed between Malachi 
and Nita-nee, many the glances, and often did the 
handsome pair meet in the mossy ravines near the 
camp grounds. But this was all clanaestine love, lor 
friendly as Indian and white might be in social inter- 
course, never could a marriage be tolerated, until — 
there always is a turning point in romance — the black- 
haired wanderer and the beautiful Nita-nee resolved 
to spend their lives together, and one moonless night 
started for the more habitable East. All night long 
they threaded their silent way, climbing tlie mountam 
ridges, gliding through the velvet-soiled hemlock 
glades, and wading, hand in hand, the splashing, reso- 
lute torrents. When morning came they breakfasted 
on dried meat and huckleberries, and bathed their 
faces in a mineral spring. Until — there is always a 
turning point in romance — seven tall, stealthy forms, 
like animated mountain pines, stepped from the gloom 
and surrounded the eloping couple. Malachi drew a 
hunting knife, identical with the one he had given to 
Chief O-ko-cho, and', seizing Nita-nee around the 
waist, stabbed right and left at his would-be captors. 
The first stroke pierced Hum-kin's heart, and, uncom- 
plainingly, he sank down dying. The six remaining 
brothers, although receiving stab wounds, caught 
Malachi in their combined grasp and disarmed him; 
then one brother held sobbing Nita-nee, while the 
others dragged fighting Malachi across the mountain. 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 31 

That was the last the lovers saw of one another. Be- 
low the mountain lay a broad valley, from the center 
of which rose a circular hillock, and' it was to this 
mound the savage brothers led their victim. As they 
approached, a yawning cavern met their eyes, filled 
with greenish limestone water. There is a ledge at 
the mouth of the cave, about six feet higher than the 
water, above which the arched roof rises thirty feet, 
and it was from here they shoved Malachi Boyer into 
the tide below. He sank for a moment, but when he 
rose to the surface, commenced to swim. He ap 
proached the ledge, but the brothers beat him back, 
so he turned and made for some dry land in the rear 
of the cavern. Two of the brothers ran from the en 
trance over the ridge to watch, where there is another 
small opening, but though Malachi tried his best, in 
the impenetrable darkness, he could not find this or 
any other avenue of escape. He swam back to the 
cave's mouth, but the merciless Indians were still on 
guard. He climbed up again and again, but was re 
pulsed, and once more retired to the dry cave. Every 
day for a week he renewed his efforts to escape, but 
the brothers were never absent. Hunger became un- 
bearable, his strength gave way, but he vowed he 
would not let the redskins see him die, so, forcing 
himself into one of the furthermost labyrinths, Mal- 
achi Boyer breathed his last. 

Two days afterward the brothers entered the cave 
and discovered the body. They touched not the coins 
in his pockets, but weighted him with stones and 



32 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

dropped him into the deepest part of the greenish 
Hmestone water. And after these years those who 
have heard this legend declare that on the still summer 
nights an unaccountable echo rings through the cave, 
which sounds like "Nita-nee," "Nita-nee." 



V. CAVE PANTHERS. 



EVERYONE who has hunted in the "Seven Broth- 
ers," as the S^ven Mountains are called in 
Central Pennsylvania, has heard of Daniel 
Karstetter, the famous Nimrod. *Though the greater 
part of a hundred years have passed since he was in 
his hey-day as a slayer of big game, his fame is undi- 
minished. Anecdotes of his prowess are related in 
every hunting camp ; by one and all he has been ac- 
claimed the greatest hunter that the Seven Brothers 
ever produced. The great Nimrod', who lived to a 
very advanced age, was born on the banks of the Ka- 
roondinha, or Penn's Creek, at the Blue Rock, several 
miles back of the present town of Coburn. In addition 
to his hunting prowess he was interested in psychic 
experiences, and was as prone to discuss his adven- 
tures with supernatural agencies as his conflicts with 
the wild denizens of the forest. There was a particu- 
lar ghost story which he loved dearly to relate. 
Accompanied by his younger brother Jacob he had 
been attending a dance one night across the mountains, 
in the environs of the town of Milroy, for like all the 
backwoods boys of his time, he was adept in the arc 
of terpsichore. The long journey was made on horse- 
back, the lads being mounted on stout Conestoga 
chargers. The homeward ride was commenced after 

* The Seven Mountains comprise the Path Valley, Short, 
Bald, Thick Head, Sand, Shade andTussey Mountains. 

33 



34 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

midnight, the two brothers riding along the dark trail 
in single tile. In the wide flat on the top of the "Big 
Mountain" Daniel fell into a doze. When he awoke, 
his mount having stumbled on a stone, Jacob was 
nowhere to be seen. Thinking that his brother had 
put his horse to a trot and gone on ahead, Daniel dis- 
missed the matter of his absence from his mind. As 
he was riding down the steep slope of the mountain, 
he noticed a horseman waiting for him on the path. 
When they came abreast the other rider fell in be- 
side him, skilfully guiding his horse so that it did 
not encounter the dense foliage which lined the nar- 
row way. Daniel supposed the party to be his brother, 
although the unknown kept his lynx-skin collar turned 
up, and' his felt cap was pulled down level with his 
eyes. It was pitchy dark, so to make sure Daniel 
called out, "Is that you, Jacob ?" His companion 
did not reply, so the young man repeated his query 
in still louder tones, but all he heard was the crunch- 
ing of the horses' hoof on the pebbly road. 

Daniel Karstetter, master-slayer of panthers, red 
bears and lynxes, was no coward, though on this occa- 
sion he felt uneasy. Yet he disliked picking a quarrel 
with the silent man at his side, who clearly was not his 
brother, and he feared to put his horse to a gallop on 
the steep, uneven roadway. The trip home never be- 
fore seemed of such interminable length. For the 
greater part of the distance Daniel made no attempt 
to converse with his unsociable comrade. Finally, he 
heaved a sigh of relief when he saw a light gleaming 



PENN'S. GRANDEST CAVERN. 35 

in the horse stable at the home farm. When he 
reached the barnyard gate he dismounted to let down 
the bars, while the stranger apparently vanished in 
the gloom. Daniel led his mount to the horse stable, 
where he found his brother Jacob sitting by the old 
tin lantern, fast asleep. He awakened him and asked 
him when he had' gotten home. Jacob stated that 
his horse had been feeling good, so he let him canter 
all the way. He had been sleeping, but judged that 
he had been home at least half an hour. He had 
met no horseman on the road. Daniel was convinced 
that his companion had been a ghost, or, as they are 
called in the "Seven Brothers," a gshpook. But he made 
no further comment that night. A year afterwards, 
in coming back alone from a dance in Stone Vallev, 
he was again joined by the silent horseman, who fol- 
lowed him to his barnyard gate. He gave up going 
to dances on that account. At least once a year, or as 
long as he was able to go out at night, he met the 
ghostly rider. Sometimes, when tramping along on 
foot after a hunt, or, in later years, coming back from 
market in his Jenny Lind, he would find the silent 
horseman at his side. After the first experience he 
never attempted to speak to the nightrider, but he be- 
came convinced that it meant him no harm. As his 
prowess as a hunter became recognized he had many 
jealous rivals among the less successful Nimrods. In 
those old days threats of all kinds were freely made. 
He heard on several occasions that certain hunters 
were setting out to "fix" him. But a man who could 



36 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

wrestle with panthers and bears knew no such thing 
as fear. One night, while tramping along in Green's 
Valley, he was startled by someone in the path ahead 
of him shouting out in Pennsylvania German, "Hands 
up !" He was on the point of dropping his rifle, when 
he heard the rattle of hoofbeats back of him. The 
silent horseraian in an instant was by his side, the 
dark horse pawing the earth with his giant hoois. 
There was a crackling of brush in the path ahead, and 
no more threats of hend uff. The ghostly rider fol- 
lowed Daniel to his barnyard gate, but was gone be- 
fore he could utter a word of thanks. As the result 
of this adventure he became imbued with the idea 
that he possessed a charmed life. It gave him added 
courage in his many encounters with panthers, the 
fierce red bears and lynxes. 

Apart from his love of hunting the more dangerous 
animals, Daniel enjoyed the sport of deer-shooting. He 
maintained several licks, one of them in a patch of low 
ground near the entrance to the "dry" part of Penn's 
Cave. At this spot he constructed a blind, or platform, 
between two ancient tupelo trees, about twenty fe^-t 
from the ground, and many were the huge white- 
faced stags which fell to his unerring bullets durmg 
the rutting season. One cold night, according to an 
anecdote frequently related by one of his descendants, 
while perched in his eyrie overlooking the natural 
clearing which constituted the lick, and in sight of a 
path frqeuented' by the fiercer beasts, which led to the 
opening of the "dry" cave, he saw, about midnight, 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 37 

a huge pantheress, followed by a large male of the 
same species, come out into the open. "The pantheress 
strolled from the path," so the story went, "and came 
and laid herself down at the roots of the tupelo trees, 
while the panther remained in the path and seemed 
to be listening to some noise as yet inaudible to the 
hunter. Daniel soon heard a distant roaring ; it seemed 
to come from the very summit of the Brush Moun- 
tain, and immediately the pantheress answered it. 
Then the panther, on the path, his jealousies aroused, 
commenced to roar with a voice so loud that the 
frightened hunter almost let go his trusty rifle and 
held tighter to the railing of his blind, lest he might 
tumble to the earth. As the voice of the animal tint 
had heard in the distance gradually approached, 
the pantheress welcomed him with renewed roarings, 
and the panther, restless, went and' came from the path 
to his flirtatious flame, as though he wished her to keep 
silence, and from the pantheress to the path, as though 
to say, 'Let him come if he dares ; he will find his 
match.' In about an hour a gigantic panther stepped 
out of the forest and stood in the full moonlight on 
the other side of the cleared place. The pantheress, 
eyeing him with admiration, raised herself to go to 
him, but the panther, divining her intent, rushed be- 
fore her and marched' right at his adversary. With 
measured step and slow, they approached to within a 
dozen paces of each other. Their smooth, round heads 
high in the air, their bulging yellow eyes gleaming 
tlieir long, tufted tails slowly sweeping down the 



38 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

brittle asters that grew about them. They crouched 
to the earth — a moment's pause — and then they 
bounded with a helHsh scream high in the air and 
rolled on the ground, locked in their last embrace. 
The battle was long and fearful to the amazed and 
spellbound witness of this midnight duel. Even if he 
had so wished, he could not have taken steady enough 
aim to fire. But he preferred to w^atch the combat, 
while the moonlight lasted. The bones of the two 
combatants cracked under their powerful jaws, thetr 
talons strewed the frosty ground with entrails, and 
[,ainted it red with blood, and their outcries, now 
gutteral, now sharp and loud, told their rage and 
igony. At the beginning of the contest the pantheress 
crouched herself on her belly, with her eyes fixed' 
upon the gladiators, and all the while the battle raged, 
manifested by the slow, cat-like motion of her tail 
the pleasure she felt at the spectacle. When the 
scene closed, and all was quiet and silent and death- 
like on the lick and the moon had commenced to wane, 
she cautiously approached the battle-ground, and, 
sniffing the lifeless bodies of her two lovers, walkcl 
leisurely to a nearby oak, where she stood on her hind 
feet, sharpening her fore claws on the bark. She 
glared up ferociously at the hunter in the blind, as if 
she meant to vent her anger by climbing after him. I.; 
the moonlight her golden eyes appearing so terrifyiiig 
that Daniel dropped his rifle and' it fell to the eann 
With a sickening thud. As he reached after it the 
flimsy railing gave way and he fell, literally into the 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 39 



arms of the pantheress. Just at that moment tlie 
tumble of horses' hoofs, Hke thunder on some distant 
mountain, was heard. Just as the panther was about 
to rend the helpless Nimrod to bits, the unknown rider 
came into view. Scowling at the intruder, mounted 01: 
his huge black horse, the brute abandoned her prey 
and ambled off in the direction of the dry cave. Daniel 
seized his firearm and sent a bullet after her retreating 
form, l)ut it apparently went wild of its mark. Mean 
while, before he had time to express his gratitude to 
the strange deliverer he had vanished. Daniel was 
dumbfounded. As soon as he had recovered from the 
blood-curdling episodes, he built a small fire near the 
mammoth carcasses, where he warmed his much 
benumbed hands. Then he examined the dead pan- 
thers, but found that their hides were too badly torn 
to warrant skinning. Disgusted at not getting his deer, 
and being even cheated out of the panther pelts, he 
dragged the ghastly remains of the erstwhile kings of 
the forest by their tails to the edge of the entrance to 
the dry cave. There he cut off the long ears in order 
to collect the bounty, and then shoved the car- 
casses into the aperture. They fell with sickening 
thuds into the chamber beneath, to the evident horror 
of the pantheress, which uttered a couple of piercing 
screams as the horrid remains of the recent battle 
royal landed in her vicinity. Then Jacob shouldered 
his rifle and started out in search of small game for 
his breakfast. That night he went to another of his 
licks on Elk Creek, where he killed four superb stags," 



40 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

SO the story concludes. Put to his dying day he al- 
ways placed the battle of the panthers first of all his 
hunting adventures. And his faith in the unknown 
horseman as his deliverer and good genius became the 
absorbing, all-pervading influence of his life. 



VI. THE LOST LOVERS. 



IT WAS long past dark when Mifflin Sargeant, of 
the Snow Shoe Land Company, came within sight 
of the welcoming lights of Stover's. For eighteen 
miles, through the foothills of the Narrows, he had 
not seen a sign of human habitation, except one de- 
serted hunter's cabin. There was an air of cheerful- 
ness and life about the building he had arrived at. 
Several doors opened simultaneously at the signal of 
his approach, given by a faithful watchdog, throwing 
the rich glow of the fat lamps and tallow candles across 
the road. The structure, which was very long ana 
two stories high, housed under its accommodating 
roof a tavern, a boarding house, a farmstead, a lumber 
camp, a general store and a post office. It was the last 
outpost of civilization in the east end' of Brush Valley ; 
beyond were mountains and wilderness almost lo 
Youngmanstown. Tom Tunis had not yet erected the 
substantial structure in the midst of the forest later 
known as "The Forest house." A dark-complexion- 
ed lad, who later proved to be the son of the land- 
lord, took the horse by the bridle, assisting the young 
stranger to dismount. He also helped him to un- 
strap his saddle-bags, carrying them into the house. 
Sargeant noticed, as he passed' across the porch, that 
the walls were closely hung with stags' horns, which 
showed the prevalence of these noble animals in the 
neighborhood. Old Daddy and Mammy Stover, Avho 

41 



42 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

ran the quaint caravansery, quickly made the visitor 
feel at home. It was after the regular supper-time, 
but a fresh repast was cheerfully prepared in the huge 
stone chimney. The young man explained to his hosts 
that he had ridden that day from New Berlin ; he had 
come from Philadelphia to Harrisburg by train, to 
Liverpool by packet boat, at which last named place 
his horse had been sent on to meet him. He added 
that he was on his way into Centre County, where 
he had recently purchased an interest in the Snow 
Shoe development. After supper he strolled along 
the porch to the far end, to the post office, thinking 
he would send a letter home. A mail had been brouglit 
in from Rebersburg during the afternoon, conse- 
quently the post office, and not the tavern stand, was 
the attraction of the crowd this night. The narrow 
room was poorly lighted by fat lamps, which cast 
great, fitful shadows, making grotesques out of the 
oddly-costumed, bearded wolf hunters present, who 
were the principal inhabitants of the surroundmg 
ridges. A few women, hooded and shawled, were 
noticeable in the throng. In a far corner, leaning 
against the water bench, was young Reuben Stover, 
the hostler, tuning up his wheezy fiddle. As many 
persons as possible hung over the rude counter, across 
which the mail was being delivered, and where many 
letters were written in reply. Above this counter 
were suspended' three fat lamps, attached to grooved 
poles, which, by cleverly-devised pulleys, could be 
lifted to any height desired. The young Philadelphian 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 43 



edged his way through the good-humored concourse 
to -ask permission to use the ink; he had brought his 
favorite quill pen and the paper with him. This 
brought him face to face, across the counter, with 
the postmistress. He had not been able to see her be- 
fore, as her trim little figure had been wholly ob- 
scured by the ponderous forms that lined the counter. 
Instantly he was charmed by her appearance — it was 
unusual — by her look of neatness and alertness. The.r 
eyes met — it was almost with a smile of mutual 
recognition. When he asked her if he could borrow 
the ink, which was kept in a large earthen pot of 
famous Sugar Valley make, she smiled on him again, 
and he absorbed the charm of her personality anew. 
Though she was below the middle height, her figure 
was so lithe and erect that it fully compensated for 
the lack of inches. She wore a blue homespun dress, 
with a neat checked apron over it, the material for 
which constituted a luxury, and must have come all 
the way from Youngmanstown or Sunbury. Her pro- 
fuse masses of soft, wavy, light-brown hair, on which 
the hanging lamps above brought out a glint of gold, 
was worn low on her head'. Her deepset eyes were 
a transparent blue, her features, well developed, and 
when she turned her face in profile, the high arch of 
the nose showed at once mental stability and energy/. 
Her complexion was fair; there seemed to be always 
that kindly smile playing about the eyes and lips. When 
she pushed the heavy inkwell towards him he noticed 
that her hands were very white, the fingers tapering; 



44 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

they were the hands of innate refinement. Almost 
imperceptibly the young man found himself in conver- 
sation with the little postmistress. Doubtless she was 
interested to meet an attractive stranger, one from 
such a distant city as Philadelphia. While they talked', 
the letter was gradually written, sealed, weighed and 
paid for; it was before the days of postage stamp?, 
and the postmistress politely waited on her customers. 
He had told her his name — Mifflin Sargeant — and she 
had given him hers — Caroline Hager — and that she 
was eighteen years of age. He had told her about his 
prospective trip into the wilds of Centre County, of 
the fierce beasts which he had heard' still abounded 
there. The girl informed him that he would not have 
to go farther west to meet wild animals ; that wolf 
hides by the dozens were brought to Stover's each 
winter, where they were traded in ; that old Stover, a 
justice of the peace, attested to the bouiuy warrants — 
in fact, the wolves howled from the hill across the 
road on cold nights when the dogs were particularly 
restless. Her father was a wolf hunter, and would 
never allow her to go home alone ; consequently, when 
he could' not accompany her, she remained in the 
dwelling which housed' the post office. Panthers, too, 
were occasionally met with in the locality, also huge 
red bears and the somewhat smaller black ones. If 
he was going west, she continued in her pretty way, 
he must not fail to visit the great limestone cave near 
where the Brush Mountain ended. She had a sister 
married and living not far from it, from whom she 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 45 

had heard wonderful tales, though she had never been 
there herself. It was a cave so vast it had not as yet 
been fully explored ; one could travel for miles in it in 
a boat ; John Penn's Creek had its source in it ; Indians 
had formerly lived in the dry parts, and wild. beasts. 
Then she lowered her voice to say that it was now 
haunted' by the Indians' spirits. And so they talked 
until a very late hour, the crowd in the post office 
melting away, until Jared Hager, the girl's father, 
in his wolfskin coat, appeared to escort her home, 
to the cabin beyond the waterfall near the trail to 
Hope Valley. She was to have a holiday until the 
next afternoon. The wolf hunter was a courageous- 
looking man, much darker than his daughter, with a 
heavy beard and bushy eyebrows. He spoke pleasant- 
ly with the young stranger, and then they all said 
good night. "Don't forget to visit the great cavern," 
Caroline called to the youth. "I surely will," he 
answered, "and stop here on my way east to tell you ail 
about it." "That's good ; we want to see you again," 
said the girl, as she disappeared into the gloomy 
shadows which the shaggy white pines cast across the 
road. Young Stover was playing "Green Grows the 
Rushes" on his fiddle in the tap-room and Sargeant 
sat there listening to him, dreaming and musing all the 
while, his consciousness singularly alert, until the clos- 
ing hour came. That night, in the old stained four- 
poster, in his tiny, cold room, he slept not at all. 
"Yet he feared to dream." Though his thoughts car- 
ried him all over the world, the little postmistress was 



46 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

uppermost in every fancy. Among other things, he 
wished that he had asked her to ride with him to tne 
cave. They could have visited the subterranean 
marvels together. He got out of bed' and managed to 
light the fat lamp. By its sputtering gleams he wrote 
her a letter, which came to an abrupt end as the small 
supply of ink which he carried with him was ex- 
hausted. But as he repented of the intense sentences 
penned to a person who knew him so slightly, he arose 
before morning and tore it to bits. There was a white 
frost on the buildings and ground when he came 
downstairs. The Autumn air was cold, the atmosphere 
was a hazy, melancholy grey. There seemed to be a 
cessation of all the living forces of nature, as if 
waiting for the summons of winter. From the 
chimney of the old inn came the pungent odor of 
burning pine wood. With a strange sadness he saddled 
his horse and' resumed his ride towards the west. He 
thought constantly of Caroline — so much so that after 
he had traveled ten miles he wanted to turn back ; he 
felt miserable without her. H only she were riding 
beside him, the two bound for Penn's Valley Cave, he 
could be supremely happy. Without her, he did not 
care to visit the cavern, or anything else; so at Madi- 
sonburg he crossed the northern mountains, leaving! 
the southerly valleys behind. He rode up N'ittany 
Valley to Bellefonte, where he met the agent of the 
Snow Shoe Company. With this gentleman he visisted 
the vast tract being opened' up to lumbering, mining and 
colonization. But his thoughts were elsewhere; they 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 47 

were across the mountains with the little postmistress 
of Stover's. Satisfied that his investment would prove 
remunerative, he left the development company's cozy 
lod'ge-house, and, with heart growing lighter with each 
mile, started for the East. It was wonderful how dif- 
ferently — how vastly more beautiful the country 
seemed on this return journey. He fully appreciated 
the wistful loveliness of the fast-fading Autumn foli- 
age, the crispness of the air, the beauty of each stray 
tuft of asters, the last survivors of the wild flowers 
along the trail. The world was full of joy, everything 
was in harmony. Again it was after nightfall when he 
reined his horse in front of Stover's long, rambling 
hovtse. This time two doors opened simultaneously, 
sending forth golden lights and shadows. One was 
from the tap-room, where the hostler emerged ; the 
other from the post office bringing little Caroline. 
There was no mail that night, consequently the office 
was practically deserted ; she had time to come out and' 
greet her much-admired friend. And let it be said that 
ever since she had seen him, her heart was aflame with 
the image of Mifllin Sargeant. She was canny enough 
to appreciate such a man, besides he was a good-looking 
youth, though perhaps of a less robust type than those 
most admired in the Red Hills. After cordial greetings 
the young man had his supper, after which he repaired 
to the post office. By that time the last straggler was 
gone; he had a blissful evening with his fair Caroline. 
She anticipated his coming, being somewhat of a 
psychic, and had arranged to spend the night with the 



48 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

Stovers. There was no hurry to retire ; when they 
went out on the porch preparatory to locking up, the 
hunter's moon was sinking behind the western knobs, 
which rose hke the pyramids of Egypt against the sky 
Hne. Sargeant Hngered around the old house for three 
days ; when he departed it was with extreme reluct- 
ance. Seeing Caroline again in the future appeared 
like something too good to be true, so downhearted 
was he at the parting. But he had arranged to come 
back the following Autumn, bringing an extra horse 
with him, and' the two would ride to the wonderful 
cavern in Penn's Valley and explore to the ends its 
Stygian depths. Meanwhile they would make most 
of their separation through a steady correspondence. 
Despite glances, pressure of hands, chance caresses, 
and evident happiness in one another's society, not a 
word of love had passed between the pair. That was 
why the pain of parting was so intense. If Caroline 
could have remembered one loving phrase, then she 
would have felt that she had something tangible on 
which to hang her hopes. If the young Philadelphian 
had unburdened his heart by telling her tnat he loved 
her, and her alone, and heard her words of affirma- 
tions, the world out into which he was riding would 
have seemed less a blank. But underneath his love, 
burning like a hot branding iron, was his consciousness 
of class, his fear of the consequences if he took to the 
great city a bride from another sphere. As an only 
son, he could not picture himself deserting his widowed' 
mother and sisters and living at Snow Shoe ; there he 



I'ENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 49 

was sure that Caroline would be happy. Neither could 
he see permanent peace of mind if he married her and 
brought her into his exclusive circles in the Quaker 
City. As he was an honorable young man, and his 
love was real, making her truly and always happy was 
the solitary consideration. These thoughts marred 
the parting; they blistered and ravaged his spirit on 
the whole dreary way back to Liverpool. There his 
colored servant, an antic darkey, was waiting to ride 
the horse to Philadelphia. The young man boaraed 
the packet, riding on it to Harrisburg, where he took 
the steam train for home. In one way he was happier 
than ever before in his life, for he had found love; 
in another he was the most dejected of men, for his 
beloved might never be his own. He seemed gayer 
and stronger to his family; evidently the trip into the 
wilderness had done him good. He had' begun his 
letter-writing to Caroline promptly. It was his great 
solace in his heart perplexity. She wrote a very good 
letter, very tender and sympathetic, the handwriting 
was clear, almost masculine, denoting the bravery of 
her spirit. During the winter he was called upon 
through his sisters to mingle much with the society of 
the city. He met many beautiful and attractive young 
women, but for him the die of love had been cast. He 
was Caroline's irretrievably. Absence made his love 
firmer, yet the solution of it all the more enigmatical. 
The time passed on apace. Another Autumn set in, 
but on account of important business matters it was 
not until December that Sargeant departed for the 



50 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

wilds of Central Pennsylvania. But he could spend 
Christmas with his love. This time he sent two horses 
ahead' to Liverpool. When he reached the queer old 
river town he dropped into an old saddlery shop, 
where the canal-boat drivers had their harness 
mended, and purchased a neat side saddle all studded 
with brass headed nails. This he tied on behind his 
servant's saddle. The two horsemen started up the 
Mahantango, crossing the Shade Mountain to Swine- 
fordstown, thence to Hartley Hall and the Narrows, 
a slightly shorter route to Stover's. On his previous 
trip he had ridden along the river to Selin's Grove, 
across Chestnut Ridge to New Berlin, over Shamokin 
Ridge to Youngmanstown, and from there to the 
Narrows; he was in no hurry; no dearly loved girl 
was waiting for him in those days. Caroline, looking 
prettier than ever — she was a trifle plumper and redder 
cheeked — was at the post office steps to greet him. 
Despite his avoidance of words of love, she was cer- 
tain of his inmost feelings, and opined that somehow 
the ultimate result would be well. Sargeant had ar- 
ranged to arrive on a Saturday evening, so that they 
could begin their ride to the cave that night after the 
post office closed, and be there bright and early Sun- 
day morning. For this reason he had traveled by 
very easy stages from Hartley Hall, that the horses 
might be fresh for their added journey. Sargeant's 
devoted' Negro factotum was taken somewhat aback 
when he saw how attentive the young man was to the 
girl, and marveled at the mountain maid's rare beauty. 



PENN'S GRANDEST .CAVERN. 51 

Upon instructions from his master, he set about to 
changing the saddles, placing the brand new lady's 
saddle on the horse he had been riding. It was not 
long until the tiny post office was closed for the night, 
and Caroline emerged, wearing a many-caped red 
riding coat, the hood of which she threw over her 
head' to keep the wavy, chestnut hair in place. She 
climbed into the saddle gracefully — she seemed a nat- 
ural horsewoman — and soon the loving pair were can- 
tering up the road towards Wolf's Store, Rebersburg 
and the cave. It was not quite daybreak when they 
passed the home of old Jacob Harshbarger, the tenant 
of the "cave farm;" a Creeley rooster was crowing 
lustily in the barnyard, the unmilked cattle of the 
ancient black breed shook their heads lazily; no one 
was up. The young couple had planned to visit the 
cave, breakfast and spend the day with Caroline's sis- 
ter, who lived not far away at Centre Hill, and ride 
leisurely back to Stover's in the late afternoon. It 
had been a very cold all-night ride, but they had been 
so happy that it had seemed brief and free from all dis- 
agreeable physical sensations. In those days there was 
no boat in the cave, and no guides ; consequently all 
intending visitors had to bring their own torches. This 
Caroline had seen to, and in her leisure moments for 
weeks before her lover's coming, had been arranging 
a supply of rich-pine lights that would see them safely 
through the gloomy labyrinths. They fed their horses 
and then tied' them to the fence of the orchard which 
surrounded the entrance to the "dry" cave, and which 



52 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

had been recently set out. Several big original white 
pines grew along the road, and would give the horses 
shelter in case it turned out to be a windy day. The 
young couple strolled through the orchard, and down 
the steep path to the mouth of the "watery" cave, 
where they gazed for some minutes at the expanse of 
greenish water, the high span of the arched roof, the 
general impressiveness of the scene so like the stage- 
setting of some elfin drama. They sat on the dead 
grass, near this entrance, eating a light breakfast 
with relish. Then they wended their way up the hill 
to the circular "hole in the ground" which formed the 
doorway to the dry cave. The torches were carefully 
lit, the supply of fresh ones was tied in a bundle about 
Sargeant's waist. The burning pine gave forth an 
aromatic odor and a mellow light. They descended 
through the narrow opening, the young man going 
ahead and helping his sweetheart after him. Down 
the spiral passageway they went, until at length they 
came into a large chamber. Here the torches cast un- 
earthly shadows, bats flitted about; some small animal 
ran past them into an aperture at a far corner. Sar- 
geant declared' that he believed the elusive creature a 
fox, and he followed in the direction in which it had 
gone. When he came to this opening he peere^i 
through it, finding that it led to an inner chamber of 
impressive proportions. He went back, taking Caro- 
line by the hand, and led her to the narrow chamber, 
into which they both entered. Once in the interior room 
they were amazed by its size, the height of its roof, 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 53 

the beauty of the stalactite formations. They sat down 
on a fallen stalagmite, holding aloft their torches, ab- 
sorbed by the beauty of the scene. In the midst of 
their musing a sudden gust of wind blew out their 
lights. They were in utter darkness. The young 
lover bade his sweetheart be unafraid, while he 
reached his hand' in his pocket for the matches. They 
were primitive affairs, the few he had, and he couM 
not make them light. He had not counted on the use 
of the matches, as he thought one torch could be lir 
from another ; consequently had brought so few with 
him. Finally he lit a match, but the dampness extin- 
guished it before he could ignite his torch. When the 
last match failed, it seemed as if the couple were in a 
serious predicament. They first shouted' at the top of 
their voices, but only empty echoes answered them. 
They fumbled about in the chamber, stumbling over 
rocks and stalagmites, their eyes refusing to become 
accustomed to the profound blackness. Try as they 
would, they could not locate the passage that led from 
the room they were in to the outer apartment. Caro- 
line, little heroine that she was, made no complaint. If 
she had any secret fears her lover effectually 
quenched them by telling her that the presence of the 
two saddle horses tied to the orchard fence would 
acquaint the Harshbarger family of their presence in 
the cave. "Surely," he went on, "we will be rescued 
in a few hours. There's bound' to be some member of 
the household or some hunter see those horses." But 
the hours passed, and with them came no intimations 



54 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

of rescue. But the two "prisoners" loved one another, 
time was as nothing to them. In the outer world, both 
thought, but neither made bold to say, tnat they might 
have to separate — in the cave they were one in pur- 
pose, one in love. How gloriously happy they were. 
But they did get a trifle hungry, but that was appeased 
at first by the remnants of the breakfast provisions, 
which they luckily still had in a little bundle. When 
sufficient time had elapsed for night to set in, they fell 
asleep, and in each other's arms. Caroline's last con- 
sciuos moment was to feel her lover's kisses. When 
they awoke, many hours afterwards, they were hun- 
grier than ever, and thirsty. Sargeant fumbled about, 
locating a small pool of water, where the two 
quenched their thirst. But still they were happy, 
come what may. They would' be rescued, that was 
certain, unless the horses had broken loose and run 
away, but there was small chance of that. They had 
been securely tied. It was strange that no one had seen 
the steeds in so long a time, with the farmhouse less 
than a quarter of a mile away- — but it was at the foot 
of the hill. Hunger grew apace with every hour 
After a while drinking water would not sate it. li 
throbbed and ached, it became a dull pain, that onh 
love could triumph over. Again enough hours 
elapsed to bring sleep, but it was harder to find re- 
pose, though Sargeant's kisses were marvelous recom- 
pense. Caroline never whimpered from lack of food. 
To be with her lover was all she asked. She had 
prayed for over a year to be with him again. She 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 55 

would be glad to die at his side, even of starvation. 
The young man was content ; hunger was less a pain 
to him than had been the past fourteen months' sep- 
aration. Again came what they supposed to be morn- 
ing. They knew that there must be some way uui 
near at hand, as the air was so pure. They shouted, 
but the dull echoes were their only reward. Strangely 
enough, they had never felt another cold gust like 
the one which had blown out their torches. Could the 
shade of one of the old-time Indians who had fought 
for possession of the cave been perpetrator of the 
trick, suggested lovely little Caroline. If so, she 
thought to herself ; he had helped her, not harmed her, 
for could there be in the world a sensation half so 
sweet as sinking to rest in her handsome lover's arms ? 
Meanwhile the world outside the cavern had been go- 
ing its way. Shortly after the young equestrians 
passed the Harshbarger dweUing, all the family had 
come out, and, after attending to their farm duties, 
driven off to the Seven Mountains, where the sons of 
the family maintained a hunting camp on the Karoon- 
dinha on the other side of High Valley. The boys 
had killed an elk, consequently the guests remained 
longer than expected, to partake of a grand Christmas 
feast. They tarried at the camp all of that day, all 
of the next ; it was not until early on the morning of 
the third day that they started back to the Penn'-3 
Creek farm. They had arranged with a neighbor's 
boy. Mosey Shell, who lived further along the creek 
below the farmhouse, to d'o the feeding in their ab- 



56 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

sence ; it was winter, there was no need to hurry home. 
When they got home they found Mosey in the act of 
watering two very dejected and dirty looking horses 
with saddles on their backs. "Where did they come 
from " shouted the big freight- wagon load in unison. 
"I found them tied to the fence up at the orchard. 
By the way they act I'd think they hadn't been watered 
or fed for several days," replied the boy. "You 
dummy !" said old Harshbarger, in Dutch. "Some- 
body's in that cave, and got lost, and can't get out." 
He jumped out of the heavy wagon and ran to a cor- 
ner of the corncrib, where he kept a stock of torches. 
Then he hurried up the steep hill towards the entrance 
to the dry cave. The big man was panting when he 
reached the opening, where he paused a moment to 
kindle a torch. Then he lowered himself into the pit, 
shouting at the top of his voice, "Hello ! Hello' 
Hello !" It was not until he had gotten into the first 
chamber that the captives in the inner room could hear 
him. Sargeant had been sitting with his back 
propped' against the cavern wall, while Caroline, very 
pale and white-lipped, was lying across his knees, 
gazing up into the darkness, imagining that she could 
see his face. When they heard the cheery shouts of 
their deliverer, they did not instantly attempt to 
scramhle to their feet. Instead the young lover bent 
over ; his lips touched Caroline's, who instinctively had 
raised her face to meet his. As his lips touched hers, 
he whispered, "I love you, my darling, with all my 
heart. W^e will be married when we get out of here." 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 57 

Caroline had time to say, "You are my only love," be- 
fore their lips came together. They were in that posi- 
tion when the flare of Farmer Harshbarger's torch lit 
up their hiding place. Pretty soon they were on their 
feet, and', with their rescuer, figuring out just how 
long they had been in their prison — their prison oi 
love. They had gone into the cave on the morning of 
December 24th; it was now the morning of the 37th; 
in fact, almost noon. Christmas had come and gone. 
Caroline still had enough strength in reserve to enable 
her to climb up the tortuous passage, though her lover 
did help her some, as all lovers should. The farmer's 
wife had some coffee and buckwheat cakes ready when 
they arrived at the manse, which the erstwhile captives 
of Penn's Cave sat down to enjoy. As they were eat- 
ing, another of Harshbarger's sons rode up on horse- 
back. He had been to the postoffice at Earlysburg. He 
handed Sargeant a tiny, badly typed newspaper pub- 
lishehed in Millheim. Across the front page, in letters 
larger than usual, were the words, "Mexico Declares 
War With the United States." Sargeant scanned the 
headline intently, then laid the paper on the table. "Our 
country has been drawn into a war with Mexico," he 
said, with a voice trembling with emotion. "I had hoped 
it might be avoided. I am First Lieutenant of the 
Greys ; I fear I'll have to go." Caroline lost the color 
which had come back to her pretty cheeks since emerg- 
ing from the underground dungeon. She reached over, 
grasping her lover's now clammy hand. Then, notic- 
ing that no one was listening, she said faintlv : "It is 



58 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

terrible to have you leave me now ; but won't you 
marry me before you go? I do love you." "Certainly 
I will," replied Sargeant, with enthusiasm. "I will 
have more to fight for, with you at home bearing my 
name." 



VII. GOV. CURTIN'S VISIT. 



CAPTAIN JOHN Q. DYCE, one of the pioneer 
Democratic leaders of Clinton County, who died 
in 1904, was fond of telling about Governor 
Andrew G. Curtin's visit to Penn's Cave, and' the 
great statesman's opinion of the cavern. It appeared 
that during the Philadelphia Centennial in 1876 among 
hosts of other celebrated foreigners who visited the 
exposition were three Russians of note. Field Marshal 
von Fersen, Count Hickoff, and Baron de Toplitz- 
Harberstain. They were accompanied by their secre- 
taries and retinues of servants. The heat of the city 
was intolerable, it was in the month of August, and, 
tiring of the marvels of the exposition, they sought to 
visit the interior of the state in search of cooler 
weather. One of the party recalled the fact that a 
few years previously Andrew G. Curtin, who lived 
somewhere in Central Pennsylvania, had been in Rus- 
sia as United States Minister. The Russians ad- 
mired the gallant "War Governor," who had made a 
most efficient envoy, so nothing would satisfy them 
but to seek him out and pay their respects. And thus 
it came to pass that one night, when the Bald Eagle 
Valley train pulled into Bellefonte, it deposited on the 
platform, to the wonder of the collected natives, three 
Russian grandees, nine lesser individuals, and a pile 
of luggage mountain high. It so happened that ex- 
Governor Curtin was at home alone, the rest of his 



59 



60 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

family being at Saratoga. The ticket agent informed 
the great statesman that some foreigners, who spoke 
very little English, were waiting for him at the sta 
tion. Hurrying to the depot as fast as he could travel, 
he recognized his intending guests, who embraced him 
in turn. They accepted the proffered invitation to 
spend the night at the War Governor's mansion, and 
soon the entire party was riding up the hill in a hotel 
bus, commandeered for the purpose. Once in the 
commodious mansion, the Russians felt perfectly at 
home. First of all, they salaamed many times before 
Brookman's magnificent oil portrait of the Czar 
Nicholas II., which the "Little Father" had graciously 
presented to Curtin before his departure from St. 
Petersburg, and which hung in the War Governor's 
lil)rary. The visitors were much impressed by the dry, 
cool, pine-laden air, which reminded them, they said, 
so much of Russia. These remarks made the tacttul 
Curtin decide that the best form of entertainment 
would be a drive into the surrounding country. With 
his truly matchless memory he recollected that Count 
Hickoff was a man of some scientific attainments, had 
been one of the party to unearth the skeleton of a 
mammoth in Siberia, the tusks of which had been sent 
to the Stuttgart museum, measured on the outside 
curve twelve feet ten and one-half inches, and had a 
greatest circumference of thirty-one and one-half 
inches. Doubtless the noblemen would enjoy an. ex- 
cursion to the Penn's Cave, situated within a delight- 
ful driving distance of Bellefonte. Captain Dyce hap- 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 61 

pened to be in town that night, to discuss the Tilden 
Campaign with the War Governor. Governor Curtin, 
who was naturally too busy with his Russian guests 
to talk politics, smilingly told the Clinton County 
leader that he could do him a great favor if the next 
morning at eight o'clock he would have five or six 
two-horse surreys in front of the Curtin home. Dyce 
took the hint and' spent the entire night among the 
local liverymen and horse jockeys getting together 
the equipment. Next morning, which dawned de- 
lightfully clear, at seven-thirty found six dignified- 
looking two-horse surreys, each driven by a grinning 
Negro, lined up on the hilly street before the War Gov- 
ernor's domicile. As the party emerged from the 
house the Governor addressed them, saying, "Gentle- 
men, we go this morning to the greatest natural won- 
der in Pennsylvania." The Russian dignitaries, who 
were great horse lovers, spent fully fifteen minutes 
inspecting the livery nags, a goodly lot of trotting-bred 
type, which they declared' were on the same general 
lines of their own Orloffs. As he got in his carriage, 
Field Marshal von Fersen, who owned a vast stock 
farm on the Volga, shook his head sadly, saying, 
"What a pity you Americans don't keep your horses 
entire." Frequently on the drive the distinguished 
tourists uttered exclamations of delight at the grand 
scenery and prosperous looking farms, but they were 
kept laughing most of the way at the jokes and humor- 
ous anecdotes told them by Governor Curtin and Cap- 
tain Dyce, both of whom had inherited inimitable wit 



62 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

from their Celtic ancestors. Arriving at the Penn's 
Cave Farm, the party was cordially received by Pro- 
prietor George Long and wife. Mr. Long was one 
of Governor Curtin's political admirers, consequently 
he whispered to his spouse to prepare the best dinner 
she knew how. While it was gotten ready, the party, 
led by the proprietor, was taken through the cavern in 
a huge flatboat. The emotional Russians kept shout- 
ing with approbation, while Count Hickoff, who was a 
line singer, woke the echoes with the Russian National 
Anthem. The visit to the dry cave was particularly 
edifying to all concerned. Count Hickoff collected a 
pocketful of bones and shells, while the hospitable pro- 
prietor Long broke off for him several of the choicest 
stalactites. "You say that this is Pennsylvania's great- 
est natural wonder?" said Baron de Toplitz-Herber- 
stain, as the party emerged into the warm sunlight; 
"but I say that there is nothing finer in Russia, or per- 
haps in the world." At these words Governor Curtin 
smiled, as he was an early believer in the theory of 
"seeing America first," and dearly loved his native 
Central Pennsylvania. The Pennsylvania country 
dinner served by Mrs. Long and her hand-maidens 
was fully up to the traditions of such a repast. It is 
stated that nine kinds of pie were on the table at one 
time. And each Russian sampled them all. Before 
going to the cave Governor Curtin had explained the 
"caste" system of Russia to the Longs, consequently 
only the three grandees, their secretaries, the Governor 
and Captain Dyce sat down to the "first table." The 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 63 

Russians conversed with the Longs in High German, 
being rephed to in Pennsylvania Dutch. The rest of 
the party, including the drivers and the Long family, 
were at the second table, and there was a-plenty for 
all. After the dinner, which was equal to any Russian 
wedding feast, all averred, the party was driven back 
to Bellefonte. After spending another night under 
Governor Curtin's hospitable roof, the happy Russians 
departed for Altoona and Pittsburg, loaded with 
letters of introduction from their host, to the car 
builders and steel magnates whose works they wished 
to inspect. But in all their travels, interesting as they 
d'oubtless were, they hardly enjoyed themselves more 
than their trip to "Pennsylvania's greatest natural won- 
der," Penn's Cave. 






Vni. THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH. 



OLD CHIEF WISAMEK, of the Kittochtinny In- 
dians, had lost his spouse. He was close to sixty 
years of age, which was old for a red man, es- 
pecially one who had led the hard life of a warrior, ex- 
posed to all kinds of weather, fasts and forced 
marches. Though he felt terribly lonely and depressed 
in his state of widowerhood, the thought of discarding 
the fidelity of the eagle, which if bereaved never takes 
a second mate, and was the noble bird he worshiped 
was repugnant to him until he happened to see the fair 
and buxom maid Annapalpeteu. He was rheumatic, 
walking with difficulty ; he tired easily, was fretful, 
all sure signs of increasing age ; but what upset him 
most was the sight of his reflection in his favorite 
pool, a haggard, w^eezened, wrinkled face, with a nose 
like the beak of an eagle, and eyes as colorless as clay. 
When he opened his mouth, the reflected' image seemed 
to be mostly toothless, the lips were blue and thin. 
He had noticed that he did not need to shave his 
skull any more to give prominence to his warrior's 
top-knot; the proud tuft itself was growing sparse 
and weak; to keep it erect he was now compelled to 
braid with it hair from the buffalo's tail. Brave war- 
rior that he was, he hated to pay his court to the lovely 
Annapalpeteu when on all sides he saw stalwart six- 
foot youths, masses of sinews and muscle, clear-eyed, 
firm-lipped, always ambitious and high-spirited. But 

64 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 65 



one afternoon he saw his copper-colored love sitting 
by the side of the Bohundy Creek, beating maize in a 
wooden trough. Her entire costume consisted of a 
tight petticoat of blue cloth, hardly reaching to the 
knees, and without any ruffles. Her cheeks and fore- 
head were neatly daubed with red. She seemed very 
well content with her coadjutor, a bright young fellow, 
who, except for two wild cat hides appropriately 
distributed, was quite as naked as the ingenuous 
beauty. That Annapelpeteu had a cavalier was now 
certain, and immediately it rekindled what flames re- 
mained in his jaded body ; he must have her at any cost. 
Down by the Conadogwinet, across the South Moun- 
tains, lived Mbison, a wise man. Old Wisamek would 
go there and consult him, perhaps obtain from him 
some potion to permanently restore at least a few of 
the fires of his lost youth. Though his will-power 
had been appreciably slackening of late years, he acted 
with alacrity on the idea of visiting the soothsayer. 
Before sundown he was on his way to the south, ac- 
companied by several faithful henchmen. Carrying 
a long ironwood staff, he moved on with unwonted 
agility; it was very dark, and' the path difficult to 
follow, when he finally consented to bivouac for the 
night. The next morning found him so stiff that he 
could hardly clamber to his feet. His henchmen as- 
sisted him, though they begged him to rest for a day. 
But his will forced him on ; he wanted to be virile 
and win the beautiful Annapalpateu. The journey, 
which consumed a week, cost the aged Strephon a 



66 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

world of effort. But as he had been indefatigable in 
his youth, he was determined to reach the wise mans 
headquarters walking like a warrior, and not carried 
there on a litter like an old woman. Bravely he forged 
ahead, his aching joints paining miserably, until at 
length he came in sight of his Promised Land. The 
soothsayer, who had been apprsed of his coming by a 
dream, was in front of his substantial lodge-house 
to greet him. Seldom had he received a more distin- 
guished client than Wisamek, so he welcomed him 
with marked courtesy and deference. After the first 
formalities, the old' chief, who had restrained him- 
self with difficulty, asked how he could be restored to 
a youthful condition so that he could rightfully marry 
a beautiful maiden of eighteen summers. The wise 
man, who had encountered similar supplicants in the 
past, informed him that the task was a comparatively 
easy one. It would involve, however, another journey 
across mountains. Wisamek shouted for joy when 
he heard these words and' impatiently demanded 
where he would have to go to be restored' to youth. 
"Across many high mountain ranges, across many 
broad valleys, across many swift streams, through a 
country covered with dark forests and filled with wild 
beasts, to the north-west of here is a wonderful cavern. 
In it rises a deep stream, of greenish color, clear as 
crystal, the fountain of youth. At its heading you will 
find a very old man, Gamunk, who knows the formula. 
Give him this talisman, and he will allow you to bathe 
in the marvelous waters, and be young again." With 




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PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 67 

the final words he handed Wisamek a red bear's 
tooth, on which was cleverly carved the form of an 
athletic youth. The old' chief's hands trembled so 
much that he almost dropped the precious fetich. But 
he soon recovered his self-control and thanked the 
wise man. Then he ordered his henchmen to give the 
soothsayer gifts, which they did, loading him with 
beads, pottery, wampum and rare furs. Despite the 
invitation to remain until he was completely rested, 
Wisamek determined to depart at once for the foun- 
tain of youth. He was so stimulated by his high hope 
that he climbed the steep ridges, crossed' the turbulent 
streams, and put up with the other inconveniences of 
the long march much better than might have been the 
case. During the entire journey he sang Indian love 
songs, strains which had not passed his lips in thirty 
years. His followers, gossiping among themselves, 
declared that he looked better already. Perhaps he 
would not have to bathe in the fountain after all. He 
might resume his youth, because he willed it so. 
Indians were strong believers in the power of mind 
over matter. When he reached the vicinity of the cave 
he was fortunate enough to meet the aged Indian who 
was its guardian. Though his hair was snow white, 
and he said' he was so old that he had lost count of the 
years, Gamunk's carriage was erect, his complexion 
smooth, his eyes clear and kindly. He walked along 
with a swinging stride, very different from Wisamek's 
mental picture of him. The would-be bridegroom, 
who handed him the talisman, was quick to impart 



68 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

his mission to his new-found friend. "It is true," 
he replied ; "after a day and a night's immersion in 
the cave's water you will emerge with all the appear- 
ance of youth. There is absolutely no doubt of it. 
Tliousands have been here before." With these re- 
assuring words Wisamek again leaped' for joy, gyrat- 
ing like a young brave at a cantico. The party, ac- 
companied by the old guardian, quickly arrived at 
the cave's main opening, where beneath them lay 
stretched the calm, mirror-like expanse of greenish 
water. "Can I begin the bath now?" asked the chief, 
impatiently. "I am anxious to throw off the odious 
appearance of age." "Immediately," replied the old 
watchman, who took him by the hand, leading him to 
the ledge where it was highest above the water. 
"Jump off here," he said quietly. Wisamek, who had 
been a great swimmer in his youth and was absolutely 
fearless of the water, replied that he would do so. 
"But remember you must remain in the water without 
food until this hour tomorrow," said the guardian. 
As he leaped into the watery depths the chief shouted 
he would remain twice as long if he could be young 
again. Wisamek was true to his instructions ; there 
was too much at stake ; he dared not falter. The next 
morning his henchmen were at the cave's mouth to 
greet his reappearance. They were startled to see, 
climbing up the ledge with alacrity a tall and hand- 
some man, as young looking as themselves. There 
was a smile on the full red lips, a twinkle in the clear 
eve of the re-made warrior as he stood among them. 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 69 

physically a prince among men. The homeward jour- 
ney was made with rapidity. Wisamek traveled so 
fast that he played out his henchmen who were half 
his age. Annapalpeteu, who was seated in front of 
her parents' cabin, weaving a garment, noticed a 
youth of great physical beauty approaching, at the 
head of Chief Wisamek's clansmen. She wondered 
who he could be, as he wore Wisamek's headdress 
of feathers of the sea eagle. When he drew near he 
saluted her, and, not giving her time to answer, joy- 
fully shouted, "Don't you recognize me? I am your 
good frind Wisamek, come back to win your love, 
after a refreshing journey through the distant for- 
ests." Annapalpeteu, who was a sensible enough girl 
to have admired the great warrior for his prowess, 
even though she had never thought of him seriously 
as a lover, was now instantly smitten by his engaging 
appearance. The henchmen withdrew, leaving the 
couple together. They made marked progress with 
their romance ; words of love were mentioned before 
they parted. It was not long before the betrothal was 
announced, followed shortly by the wedding festival. 
At the nuptials the bridegroom's appearance was the 
marvel of all present. It was hinted that he had been 
somewhere and renewed his youth, but as the hench- 
men were sworn to secrecy, how it had been done was 
not revealed. The young bride seemed radiantly 
happy. She had every reason to be ; the other Indian 
maids whispered from lip to lip, was she not marrying 
the greatest warrior and hunter of his generation, the 



70 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

handsomest man in a hundred tribes? Secretly en- 
vied by all of her age, possessing her stalwart prize, 
the fair bride started on her honeymoon, showered 
with acorns and' good wishes. So far as is known the 
wedding trip passed ofif blissfully. There were smiles 
on the bright faces of both bride and groom when 
they returned to their spacious new lodge-house, which 
the tribe had erected for them in their absence, by the 
banks of the rippling Bohundy. But the course of life 
did not run smoothly for the pair. Though outwardly 
Wisamek was the handsomest and most youthful 
looking of men, he was still an old man at heart. 
Annapalpeteu was as pleasure-loving as she was beau- 
tiful. She wanted to dance and sing and' mingle with 
youthful company. She wanted her good time in life ; 
her joy of living was at its height, her sense of enjoy- 
ment at its zenith. On the other hand, Wisamek 
hated all forms of gaieties or youthful amusements. 
He wanted to sit about the lodge-house in the sun, 
telling of his warlike triumphs of other days ; he 
wanted to sleep much, he hated noise and excitement. 
Annapalpeteu, dutiful wife that she was, tried to 
please him, but in due course of time both husband 
and wife realized that romance was dying, that they 
were difting apart. Wisamek was even more aware 
of it than his wife. It worried hmi greatly, his 
dreams were of an unhappy nature. He pictured the 
end of it all, with his wife, Annapalpeteu, in love with 
some one else of her own age, some one whose heart 
was young. He had spells of moodiness and irrita- 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 71 



bility, as well as several serious quarrels with his wife, 
whom he accused of caring less for him than formerly. 
The relations became so strained that life in the com- 
modious lodge-house was unbearable. At length it 
occurred to Wisamek that he might again visit the 
fountain of youth, this time to revive his soul. Per- 
haps he had not remained in the water long enough 
to touch the spirit within. He informed' his spouse that 
he was going on a long journey, on invitation of the 
chief of a distant tribe, and' that she must accompany 
him. He was insanely jealous of her now; he could 
not bear her out of his sight. He imagined she had a 
young lover hiding back of every tree, though she was 
honor personified. The trip was made pleasantly 
enough, as the husband was in better spirits than 
usual. He thought he saw the surcease of his troubles 
ahead of him! When he reached the Beaver Dam 
Meadows, near the site of the present town of Spring 
Mills, beautiful level flats which in those days were 
a favorite camping ground for the red men, he re- 
quested the beautiful Annapalpeteu to remain there 
for a few days, that he was going into a hostile coun- 
try, he would not jeopardize her safety. He was going 
on an important mission that would make her love him 
more than ever when he returned'. In reality no un- 
friendly Indians were about, but in order to give a 
look of truth to his story, he left her in charge of a 
strong bodyguard. Wisamek's conduct of late had 
been so peculiar that his wife was not sorry to 
see her lord and master go away. Handsome though 



72 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

he was, a spiritual barrier had arisen between them 
which grew more insurmountable with each succeed- 
ing day. Yet, on this occasion, when he was out of 
her sight, she felt apprehensive about him. She had 
a strange presentment that she would never see him 
again. Wisamek was filled with hopes ; his spirits 
had never been higher, as he strode along, followed 
by his henchmen. When he reached' the top of the 
path which led to the mouth of the cave he met old 
Gamunk, the guardian. The aged red man expressed 
surpise at seeing him again. "I have come for a very 
peculiar reason," he said. "The bath which I took last 
year outwardly made me young, but only outwardly. 
Within I am as withered and joyless as a centenarian. 
I want to bathe once more, to try to revive the old light 
in my soul." Gamunk shook his head. "You may 
succeed ; I hope you will. I never heard of any one 
daring to take a second bath in these waters. The 
tradition of the hereditary guardians, of whom I am 
the hundredth in direct succession, has it that it would 
be fatal to take a second immersion, espcially to re- 
main in the water for twenty-four hours." Then he 
asked Wisamek for the talisman which was the right 
to bathe. Wicamek drew himself up proudly, and with 
a gesture of his hand, indicating disdain, said he had no 
talisman, that he would bathe anyhow. He advanced 
to the brink and' plunged in. Until the same hour the 
next day he floated and paddled about the greemsn 
depths, filled with expectancy. For some reason it 
seemed longer this time than on the previous visit. 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 73 

At last, by the light which filtered down through the 
treetops at the cave's mouth, he knew that the hour 
had come for him to emerge — emerge as Chief Wisa- 
mek — young in heart as in body. Proudly he grasped 
the rocky ledge, and swung himself out on dry land. 
He arose to his feet. His head' seemed very light and 
giddy. He fancied he saw visions of his old con- 
quests, old loves. There was the sound of music in 
the air. Was it martial music, played to welcome the 
conqueror, or the wind surging through the feathery 
tops of the maple and linden trees at the mouth of the 
cave? He started to climb the steep path. He seemed 
to be treading on air. Was it the buoyant steps of 
youth come again? He seemed to float rather than 
walk. The sunlight blinded his eyes. Suddenly he 
had a flash of normal consciousness. He dropped to 
the ground with a thud like an old pine falling. Tiien 
all was blackness, silence. Jaybirds complaining in 
the trees alone broke the stillness. His bodyguards, 
who were waiting for him at old Gamunk's lodge- 
house, close to where the hotel now stands, became 
impatient at his non-appearance, as the hour was past. 
Accompanied by the venerable watchman, they started 
down the path. To their horror they saw the dead 
body of a hideous, wrinkled old' man, all skin and 
bones, lying stretched out across it, a few steps 
from the entrance to the cave. When they approached 
closely they noticed several familiar tattoo marks which 
identified the body as that of their late master, Wisa- 
mek. Frightened lest they would be accused of his 



74 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

murder, and' shocked by his altered appearance, the 
bodyguards turned and took to their heels. They dis- 
appeared in the trackless forests to the north and were 
never seen again. Old Gamunk, out of pity for the 
vainglorious chieftain, buried the remains by the path 
near where he fell. As for poor Annapalpeteu, the 
beautiful, she waited patiently for many days by the 
Beaver Dams, but her waiting was in vain. At length, 
concluding that he had been slain in battle in some 
valorous encounter, she started for her old home on the 
Bohundy. It is related that in due course of time she 
married a warrior of her own age, living happily ever 
afterwards. In him she found the loving response, 
the congeniality of pleasures which had been denied 
the dried, feeble soul of Wisamek, who bathed once 
too often in the fountain of youth. 



IX. RIDING HIS PONY. 



WHEN Rev. James Martin visited Penn's Cave, 
in the Spring of 1795, it was related that he 
found a small group of Indians encamped 
there. That evening, around the campfire, one of the 
redskins related a legend of one of the curiosities of 
the watery cave, the flamboyant 'Indian Riding Pony" 
mural-piece which decorates one of the walls. Spirit- 
ed as a Remington, it bursts upon the view, creates a 
lasting impression, then vanishes as the power skiff, 
the "Nita-nee," draws nearer. According to the old 
Indians, there lived not far from where the Karoon- 
dinha emerges from the cavern a body of savages who 
made this delightful lowland their permanent abode. 
While most of their cabins were huddled near together 
on the upper reaches of the stream, there were strag- 
gling huts clear to the Beaver Dams. The finding of 
arrow points, beads and pottery along the creek amply 
attests to this. Among the clan was a maiden named 
Quetajaku, not good to look upon, but in no way ugly 
or deformed. In her youth she was light-hearted and 
sociable, with a gentle disposition. Yet for some rea- 
son she was not favored by the young bucks. xMl her 
contemporaries found lovers and husbands, but poor 
Quetajaku was left severely alone. She knew that she 
was not beautiful, though she was of good size; she 
was equally certain that she was not a physical mon- 
ster. She could not understand why she could find 

75 



76 , PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

no lover, why she was singled out to be a "chauch- 
schisis," or old maid. It hurt her pride as a young girl, 
it broke her heart completely when she was older. 
Gradually she withdrew from the society of her tribal 
friends, building herself a lodge-house on the hill, in 
what is now the cave orchard. There she led a very 
introspective life, grieving over the love that might 
have been. To console herself she imagined that some 
day a handsome warrior would appear, seek her out, 
load her with gifts, overwhelm her with love, and 
carry her away to some distant region in triumph. He 
would be handsomer and braver than any youth in the 
whole country of the Karoondinha. She would be the 
most envied of women when he came. This poor little 
fancy saved her from going stark mad, it remedied the 
horror of her lonely lot. Every time the night wind 
stirred the rude cloth which hung before the door of 
her cabin, she would picture it was the chivalrous 
stranger come to claim her. When it was cold she 
drew the folds of her buffalo robe tighter about her as 
if it was his arms. As time went on she grew happy 
in her secret lover, whom no other woman's flame 
could equal, whom no one could steal away. She was 
ever imagining him saying to her that her looks ex- 
actly suited' him, that she was his ideal. But like the 
seeker after Eldorado, years passed, and Quetajaku 
did not come nearer to her spirit lover. But her soul 
kept up the conceit ; every night when she curled her- 
self up to sleep he was the vastness of the night. On 
one occasion an Indian artist named Niganit, an under- 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN 77 

sized old wanderer, appeared at the lonely woman's 
home. For a living he decorated pottery, shells and 
bones, sometimes even painted war pictures on rocks 
Quetajaku was so kind' to him that he built himself a 
lean-to on the slope of the hill, intending to spend the 
winter. On the long winter evenings the old woman 
confided to the wanderer the story of her unhappy life, 
of her inward consolation. She said that she had 
longed to meet an artist who could carry out a certain 
part of her dream which had a right to come true. 
When she died she had arranged to be buried in a 
fissure of rocks which ran horizontally into one of the 
walls of the "watery" cave. On the opposite wall she 
would like painted' in the most brilliant colors a por- 
trait of a handsome young warrior, with arms out- 
stretched, coming towards her. Niganit said that he 
understood what she meant exactly, but suggested that 
the youth be mounted on a pony, a beast which was 
coming into use as a mount for warriors, of which he 
had lately seen a number in his travels on the Virginia 
coast. This idea was pleasing to Quetajaku, who 
authorized the stranger to begin work at once. She 
had saved up a little property of various kinds ; she 
promised to be-stow all of this on Niganit, except 
what would be necessary to bury her, if the picture 
proved satisfactory. The artist rigged up a d'og-raft 
with a scaffold on it, and this he poled into the place 
where the fissure was located, the woman accompany- 
ing him the first time, so there would be no mistake. 
All winter long by torchlight he labored away. He 



78 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

used only one color, an intensive brick-rod made from 
mixing sumac, a kind of seed, a small root and the 
bark of a tree, as being more permanent than that 
made from ochers and other ores or stained earth. 
Marvelous and vital was the result of this early im- 
pressionist ; the painting had all the action of life. 
The superb youth in war dress, with arms outstretch- 
ed, on the agile war pony, was rushing towards the 
foreground, almost in the act of leaping from the 
rocky panel into life, across the waters of the cave to 
the arms of his beloved. It would make old Quetajaku 
happy to see it, she who had never known love or 
beauty. The youth in the mural typified what Niganit 
would have been himself were he the chosen, and what 
the old squaw would have possessed had nature 
favored her. It was the ideal for two disappointed 
souls. Breathlessly the old artist ferried Quetajaku 
to the scene of his endeavors. When they reached 
the proper spot he held aloft his quavering torch. 
Quetajaku, in order to see more clearly, held her two 
hands above her eyes. She gave a little cry of ex- 
clamation, then turned and looked at Niganit intent- 
ly. Then she dropped her eyes, beginning to cry to 
herself. The artist looked at her fine face, down 
which the tears were streaming, and asked her the 
cause of her grief — was the picture such a terrible 
disappointment? The woman drew herself together, 
replying that it was grander than she had anticipated, 
but the face was Niganit's, and, strangely enough, was 
.the face she had dreamed of all her life. "But I am 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 79 

not the heroic youth you pictured," said the artist, 
sadly. "I am sixty years old, stoop-shouldered, and 
one leg is shorter than the other." "But that is how 
you would look on your war pony; it is your face, 
shoulders and arms. You are the picture that I always 
hoped would come true." Niganit looked at the Indian 
woman. She was not hideous; there was even a dig- 
nity to her large, plain features, her great, gaunt form. 
I"have never received' praise such as yours. I always 
vowed I would love the woman who really understood 
me and my art. I am yours. Let us think no more 
of funeral decorations, but go to the east, to the 
land of the war ponies, and ride to endless joy to- 
gether-." Quetajaku, overcome by the majesty of his 
words, leaned against his massive shoulder. In that 
way he poled his dog-raft against the current to the 
entrance of the cave. There was a glory in the reflec- 
tion from the setting sun over against the east ; night 
would not set in for an hour or two. And towards the 
darkening east that night two happy travelers could' 
be seen wending their way. 



3r 



X. NITA-NEE. 



The Indian Maiden for Whom Nittany Mountain is 
Named. 



(Reprinted from "Juniata Memories," Philadelphia, 1916.) 
(Copyrighted by J. J. McVey, Publisher.) 

ONE of the last Indians to wander through the 
Juniata Valley, either to revive old memories or 
merely to hunt and trap, his controlling motive 
is not certain, was old Jake Faddy. As he was sup- 
posed to belong to the Seneca tribe, and spent most of 
his time on the Coudersport Pike on the border line be- 
tween Clinton and Potter Counties, it is to be surmised' 
that he never lived permanently on the Juniata, but had 
hunted there or participated in the bloody wars in the 
days of his youth. He continued his visits until he 
reached a very advanced age. Of a younger genera- 
tion than Shaney John, he was nevertheless well ac- 
quainted' with that unique old redman, and always 
spent a couple of weeks with him at his cabin on Sad- 
dler's Run. 

Old Jake, partly to earn his board and partly to 
show his superior knowledge, was a gifted story teller. 
He liked to obtain the chance to spend the night at 
farmhouses where there were aged people, and his 
smattering of history would be fully utilized to put the 
older folks in good humor. 

80 



1 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 81 

For while the hard-working younger generations 
fancied that history was a waste of time, the old people 
loved it, and fought against the cruel way in which all 
local tradition and legend was being snuffed out. If 
it had not been for a few people carrying it over the 
past generation, all of it would now be lost in the whirl- 
pool of a commercial, materialistic age. And' to those 
few, unknown to fame, and of obscure life and resi- 
dence, is due the credit of saving for us the wealth of 
folklore that the noble mountains, the dark forests, the 
wars and the Indians, instilled in the minds of the first 
settlers. And there is no old man or woman living in 
the wilderness who is without a story that is ready to 
be imparted, and worthy of preservation. But the 
question remains, how can these • old people all be 
reached before they pass away? It would take an 
army of collectors, working simultaneously, as the 
Grim Reaper is hard' at work removing these human 
landmarks with their untold stories. 

Out near the heading of Beaver Dam Run, at the 
foot of Jack's Mountain, stands a very solid-looking 
stone farmhouse, a relic of pioneer days. Its earliest 
inhabitants had run counter to the Indians of the 
neighborhood for the possession of the beavers whose 
dens and "cabins" were its most noticeable feature 
clear to the mouth of the stream, and later for the 
otters who defied the white annihilators a quarter of 
a century longer. Beaver trapping had made the 
stream a favorite rendezvous for the red men, and 
their campground's at the springs near the headwaters 



82 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

were pointed out until a comparatively recent date. 

But one by one the aborigines dropped away, until 
Jake Faddy alone upheld the traditions of the race. 
There were no beavers to quarrel over in his day, con- 
sequently his visits were on a more friendly basis. The 
old North of Ireland family who occupied the stone 
farmhouse was closely linked with the history of the 
Juniata Valley, and they felt the thrill of the vivid past 
whenever the old Indian appeared at the kitchen d'oor. 
As he was ever ready to work and, what was better, a 
very useful man at gardening and flowers, he was al- 
ways given his meals and lodging for as long as he 
cared to remain. But that was not very long, as his 
restless nature was ever goading him on, and he had 
"many other friends to see," putting it in his own lan- 
guage. He seemed proud to have it known that he 
was popular with a good class of white people, and his 
ruling passion may have been to cultivate these asso- 
ciations. On several occasions he brought some of his 
sons with him, but they did not seem anxious to live 
up to their father's standards. And after the old man 
had passed away none of this younger generation ever 
came to the Juniata Valley. 

The past seemed like the present to Jake Faddy, 
he was so familiar with it. To him it was as if it hap- 
pened yesterday, the vast formations and changes and 
epochs. And the Indian race, especially the eastern 
Indians, seemed to have played the most important part 
in those titanic days. It seemed' so recent and so real 
to the old redman that his stories were always interest- 




WHERE REV. MARTIN WROTE HIS SERMONS 
(Near Penn Hall.) 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 83 

ing. The children also were fond of hearing him talk ; 
he had a way of never becoming tiresome. Every 
young person who heard him remembered what he 
said. There would have been no break in the "apos- 
tolic succession" of Pennsylvania legendary lore if all 
had been seated at Jake Faddy's knee. 

Of all his stories, by odds his favorite one, dealt 
with the Indian maiden, Nita-nee, for whom the fruit- 
ful Nittany Valley and the towering Nittany Moun- 
tain are named. This Indian girl was born on the 
banks of the lovely Juniata, not far from the present 
town of Newton Hamilton, the daughter of a powerful 
chief. It was in the early days of the world, when 
the physical aspect of Nature could be changed over 
night by a fiat from the Gitchie-Manitto or Great 
Spirit. It was therefore in the age of great and won- 
derful things, before a rigid world produced beings 
whose lives followed grooves as tight and permanent 
as the gullies and ridges. 

During the early life of Nita-nee a great war was 
waged for the possession of the Juniata Valley. The 
aggressors were Indians from the South, who longed 
for the scope and fertility of this earthly Paradise. 
Though Nita-nee's father and his brave cohorts de- 
fended their beloved land to the last extremity, they 
were driven northward into the Seven Mountains and 
beyond. Though they found themselves in beautiful 
valleys, filled with bubbling springs and teeming with 
game, they missed the Blue Juniata, and were never 
wholly content. The father of Nita-nee, who was 



84 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

named Chun-Eh-Hoe, felt so humiliated that he only 
went about after night in his new home. He took 
up his residence on a broad' plain, not far from where 
State College now stands, and should be the Indian 
patron of that growing institution, instead of Chief 
Bald Eagle, who never lived near there and whose 
good deeds are far outweighed by his crimes. 

Chun-Eh-Hoe was an Indian of exact conscience. 
He did his best in the cruel war, but the southern In- 
dians must have had more sagacious leaders or a bet- 
ter esprit de corps. At any rate they conquered. Chun- 
Eh-Hoe was not an old man at the time of his defeat, 
but it is related that his raven black locks turned white 
over night. He was broken in spirit after his down- 
fall and only lived a few years in his new home. His 
widow, as well as his daughter, Nita-nee, and many 
other children, were left to mourn him. As Nita-nee 
was the oldest, she assumed a vicereineship over the 
tribe until her young brother, Wo-Wi-Na-Pie, should 
be old enough to rule the councils and go on the war- 
path. 

The defeat on the Juniata, the exile to the northern 
valleys and the premature death of Chun-Eh-Hoe were 
to be avenged. Active days were ahead of the tribes- 
men. Meanwhile if the southern Indians crossed the 
mountains to still further covet their lands and 
liberties, who should lead them to battle but Nita-nee. 
But the Indian vicereine was of a peace-loving dis- 
position. She hoped that the time would never come 
when she would have to preside over scenes of carnage 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 85 

and slaughter. She wanted to see her late father's 
tribe become the most cultured and prosperous in the 
Indian world, and in that way be revenged on their 
warlike foes: "Peace hath its victories." 

But she was not to be destined to lead a peaceful 
nation through years of upward growth. In the Juni- 
ata Valley the southern Indians had become over- 
populated ; they sought broader territories, like the 
Germans of today. They had driven the present oc- 
cupants of the northern valleys out of the Juniata coun- 
try, they wanted to again drive them further north. 

Nita-nee did not want war, but the time came when 
she could not prevent it. The southern Indians sought 
to provoke a conflict by making settlements in the Bare 
Meadows, and in some fertile patches on Tussey Knob 
and' Bald Top, all of which were countenanced in 
silence. But when they murdered some peaceable 
farmers and took possession of plantations at the foot 
of the mountains in the valley of the Karoondinha, 
then the mildness of Nita-nee's cohorts came to an 
end. Meanwhile her mother and brother had died, 
Nita-nee had been elected queen. 

Every man and boy volunteered to fight; a huge 
army was recruited over night. They swept down 
to the settlements of the southern Indians, butchering 
every one of them. They pressed onward to the Bare 
Meadows, and to the slopes of Bald Top and Tussey 
Knob. There they gave up the population to fire and 
sword. Crossing the Seven Mountains, they formed 
a powerful cordon all along the southerly slope of the 



86 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

Long Mountain. Building block houses and stone 
fortifications — some of the stonework can be seen to 
this day — they could not be easily dislodged. 

The southern Indians, noticing the flames of the 
burning plantations, and hearing from the one or two 
survivors of the completeness of the rout, were slow to 
start an offensive movement. But as Nita-nee's forces 
showed no signs of advancing beyond the foot of Long 
Mountain, they mistook this hesitancy for cowardice, 
and sent an attacking army. It was completely de- 
feated in the gorge of Laurel Run, above Milroy, and 
on the slopes of Sample Knob, the right of the northern 
Indians to the Karoondinha and the adjacent valleys 
was signed, sealed and delivered in blood. The 
southern Indians were in turn driven out by other 
tribes ; in fact, every half century or so a dift'erent race 
ruled over the Juniata Valley. But in all those years 
none of the Juniata rulers sought to question the rights 
of the northern Indians until 1G35, when the Lenni- 
Lenape invaded the country of the Susquehannocks 
and were decisively beaten on the plains near Rock 
Spring, in Spruce Creek Valley, at the Battle of the In- 
dian Steps. (This battle has been described in stirring 
verse by Central Pennsylvania's bard, John H. Chat- 
ham, "The Indian Steps," Altoona, 1913.) 

As Nita-nee wanted no territorial accessions, she 
left the garrisons at her southerly forts intact, and re- 
tired her main army to its home valleys, where it was 
disbanded as quickly as it came together. All were 
glad to be back to peaceful avocations, none of them 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 87 

craved glory in war. And there were no honors given 
out, no great generals created'. All served as private 
soldiers under the direct supervision of their queen. It 
was the theory of this Joan of Arc that by eliminating 
titles and important posts there would be no military 
class created, no ulterior motive assisted except pa- 
triotism. The soldiers serving anonymously, and for 
their country's need alone, would be ready to end their 
military duties as soon as their patriotic task was done. 
Nita-nee regarded soldiering as a stern necessity, 
not as an excuse for pleasure or pillage, or personal 
advancement. Under her there was no nobility, all 
were on a common level of dignified citizenship. Every 
Indian in her realm had a task, not one that he was 
born to follow, but the one which appealed to him 
mostly, and therefore the task at which he was most 
successful. Women also had their work, apart from 
domestic life in this ideal democracy of ancient days. 
Suffrage was universal to both sexes over twenty years 
of age, but as there were no official positions, no public 
trusts, a political class could not come into existence, 
and the queen, as long as she was canning and able, 
had the unanimous support of her people. She was 
given a great ovation as she modestly walked along 
the fighting line after the winning battle of Laurel 
Run. It made her feel not that she was great, but 
that the democracy of her father and her ancestors was 
a living force. In those days of pure democracy the 
rulers walked : the litters and palanquins were a later 
development. 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 



After the conflict the gentle Nita-nee, at the head 
of the soon to be disbanded army, marched across the 
Seven Brothers, and westerly toward her permanent 
encampment, where State College now stands. As 
her only trophy she carried a bundle of. spears, which 
her brave henchmen had wrenched from the hands of 
the southern Indians as they charged the forts along 
Long Mountain. These were not to deck her own 
lodge house, nor for vain display, but were to be placed! 
on the grave of her father, the lamented Chun-Eh- 
Hoe, who had been avenged. In her heart she had 
hoped for victory, almost as much for his sake as for 
the comfort of her people. She knew how he had 
grieved himself to death when he was outgeneraled in 
the previous war. 

In theose dimly remote days there was no range of 
mountains where the Nittany chain now raise their 
noble summits to the sky. All was a plain, a prairie, 
clear north to the Bald Eagles, which only recently 
had come into existence. The tradition was that far 
older than all the other hills were the Seven Moun- 
tains. And geological speculation seems to bear this 
out. At all seasons of the year cruel and chilling 
winds blew out of the north, hindering the work of 
agriculture on the broad plains ruled over by Nita-nee. 
Only the strong and the brave could cope with these 
killing blasts, so intense and so different from the calm- 
ing zephyrs of the Juniata. The seasons for this 
cause were several weeks shorter than across the 
Seven Mountains ; that is, there was a later spring 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 89 

and an earlier fall. But though the work was harder, 
the soil being equally rich and broader area, the crops 
averaged fully as large as those further south. So, 
taken altogether, the people of Nita-nee could not be 
said to be an unhappy aggregation. 

As the victorious queen was marching along at the 
head of her troops, she was frequently almost mobbed 
by women and children, who rushed out from the 
settlements and made her all manner of gifts. As it 
was in the early spring, there were no floral garlands, 
but instead wreaths and festoons of laurel, of ground 
pine and ground spruce. There were gifts of precious 
stones and metals, of rare furs, of beautiful speci- 
mens of Indian pottery, basketry and the like. These 
were graciously acknowledged by Nita-nee, who turn- 
ed them over to her bodyguards to be carried to ner 
permanent abode on the "Barrens." But it was not a 
"barrens"' in those days, but a rich agricultural region, 
carefully irrigated from the north, and yielding the 
most bountiful crops of Indian corn. It was only 
when abandoned by the frugal redmen and grown up 
with forest which burned over repeatedly through the 
carelessness of the white settlers that it acquired that 
disagreeable name. In those days it was known as the 
"Hills of Plenty." 

As Nita-nee neared the scenes of her happy days 
she was stopped in the middle of the path by an aged 
Indian couple. Leaning on staffs in order to present 
a dignified appearance, it was easily seen that age had 
bent them nearly double. Their weazened, weather- 



90 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

beaten old faces were pitiful to behold. Toothless, 
and barely able to speak above a whisper, they ad- 
dressed the gracious queen. 

"We are very old," they began, "the winters of 
more than a century have passed over our heads. Our 
sons and our grandsons were killed fighting bravely 
under your immortal sire, Chun-Eh-Hoe. We have 
had to struggle on by ourselves as best we could ever 
since. We are about to set out a crop of corn, which 
we need badly. For the past three years the north 
wind has destroyed our crop every time it appeared; 
the seeds which we plan to put in the earth this year 
are the last we've got. Really we should have kept 
them for food, but we hoped that the future would 
treat us more generously. We would like a wind- 
break built along the northern side of our corn patch ; 
we are too feeble to go to the forests and' cut and carry 
the poles. Will not our most kindly queen have some 
one assist us : 

ISPita-nee smiled on the aged couple, then she looked 
at her army of able-bodied warriors. 

Turning to them she said, "Soldiers, will a hundred 
of you go to the nearest royal forest, which is in the 
center of this plain, and cut enough cedar poles with 
brush on them to build a wind-break for these good 
people?" 

Instantly a roar arose, a perfect babel of voices ; it 
was every soldier trying to volunteer for this philan- 
thropic task. 

When quiet was restored, a warrior stepped out 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 91 

from the lines saying, "Queen, we are very happy to 
d'o this, we who have Hved in this valley know full 
well how all suffer from the uncheckable north winds." 

The queen escorted the old couple back to their 
humble cottage, and sat with them until her stalwart 
braves returned with the green-tipped poles. It looked 
like another Birnam Wood in process of locomotion. 
The work was so quickly and so carefully done that it 
seemed almost like a miracle to the wretched old In- 
dians. They fell on their knees, kissing the hem of 
their queen's garment and thanking her for her benefi- 
cence. She could hardly leave them, so profuse were 
they in their gratitude. In all but a few hours were 
consumed in granting what to her was a simple favor, 
and she was safe and sound within her royal lodge 
house by dark. Before she left she had promised to 
return when the corn crop was ripe and partake of a 
corn roast with the venerable couple. The old people 
hardly dared hope she would come, but those about 
her knew that her word was as good as her bond. 
That night bonfires were lighted to celebrate her re- 
turn, and there was much Indian music and revelry. 

Nita-nee was compelled to address the frenzied 
mob, and in her speech she told them that while they 
had won a victory, she hoped it would be the last 
while she lived ; she hated war, but would give her life 
rather than have her people invaded. All she asked 
in this world was peace with honor. That expressed 
the sentiment of her people exactly, and' they literally 
went mad with loyalty and enthusiasm for the balance 



92 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

of the night. Naturally with such an uproar there was 
no sleep for Nita-nee. 

As she lay awake on her couch she thought that far 
sweeter than victory or earthly fame was the helping 
of others, the smoothing of rough pathways for the 
weak or oppressed. She resolved more than ever to 
dedicate her Hfe to the benefiting of her subjects. No 
love affair had come' into her life, she would use her 
great love-nature to put brightness into unhappy souls 
about her. And she got up the next morning much 
more refreshed than she could have after a night of 
sleep surcharged with dreams of victory and glory. 

As the summer progressed, and the corn crop in the 
valleys became ripe, the queen sent an orderly to notify 
the aged couple that she would come to their home 
alone the next evening for the promised corn roast, it 
was a wonderful, calm, cloudless night, with the full 
moon shedding its effulgent smile over the plain. Un- 
accompanied, except by her orderly, Nita-nee walked 
to the modest cabin of the aged couple, a distance of 
about five rriiles, for the cottage stood not far from the 
present village of Linden Hall. Evidently the wind- 
break had been a success, for, bathed in moonlight, 
the tasseled head's of the cornstalks appeared above 
the tops of the cedar hedge. Smoke was issuing from 
the open hearth back of the hut, which showed that 
the roast was being prepared. The aged couple were 
delighted to see her, and the evening passed by, bring- 
ing innocent and supreme happiness to all. And thus 
in broad unselfishness and generosity of thought and 



PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 93 

deed the great queen's life was spent, making her path- 
way through her realm radiant with sunshine. 

And when she came to die, after a full century of 
life, she requested that her body be laid to rest in the 
royal forest, in the center of the valley whose people 
she loved and served so well. Her funeral cortege, 
which included every person in the plains and valleys, 
a vast assemblage, shook with a common grief. It 
would be hard to find a successor like her, a pure 
soul so deeply animated with true godliness. 

And' it came to pass that on the night when she 
was buried beneath a modest mound covered with 
cedar boughs, and the vast funeral party had dispersed, 
a terriffic storm arose, greater than even the oldest per- 
son could remember. The blackness of the night was 
intense, the roar and rumbling heard made every oe- 
ing fear that the end of the world had come. It was 
a night of intense terror, of horror. But at dawn, the 
tempest abated, only a gentle breeze remained, a 
golden sunlight overspread the scene, and great was 
the wonder thereof! In the center of the vast plain 
where Nita-nee had been laid away stood a mound- 
like mountain, a towering, sylvan giant covered with 
dense groves of cedar and pine. And as it stood there, 
eternal, it tempered and broke the breezes from the 
north, promising a new prosperity, a greater tran- 
quility, to the peaceful dwellers in the newly-created 
vale that has since been called the Valley of the 
Karoondinha. 



94 PENN'S GRANDEST CAVERN. 

A miracle, a sign of approval from the Great Spirit, 
had happened during the night to forever keep alive 
the memory of Nita-nee, who had tempered the winds 
from the cornpatch of the aged, helpless couple years 
before. And the dwellers in the valleys adjacent to 
the now protected Valley of the Karoondinha awoke 
to a greater pride in themselvs, a high ideal must be 
observed', since they were the special objects of celes- 
tial notice. 

And the name of Nita-nee was the favorite cogno- 
men for Indian maidens, and has been borne by many 
of saintly and useful life ever since, and none of these 
namesakes were more deserving than the Nita-nee who 
lived centuries later near the mouth of Penn's Cave, 
the dausfhter of Chief O-Ko-Cho. 



li 



/ 



PENN^S CAVE 

sis 

Located in the beautiful Penn's Valley, which is noted 
for its fine mountain scenery, game and fishing. 

Boat ride of one-half mile underground through the 

Cave, showing the eroded blue limestone arch 

with its stalacite and stalagmite 

formation. 




THE HOTEL IS LOCATED ON THE PENN'S CAVE FARM 



RAILROAD STATION 

Rising Springs. Centre County, Pa. 

On the Lewisburg & Tyrone R. R. 



POST OFFICE 

Centre Hal 



LRBFe17 



